


What makes you think she would say yes?

by Lexi_Noctura



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Accident, Best Friend is mad!, Don't mess with Felicity, F/M, Ghosts, Haunting, Head Injury, Mother-alert, Nightmares, Post-Season/Series 03 AU, Wedding, Why would she say Yes?, You are a monster!, carcrash, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 31,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23875954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexi_Noctura/pseuds/Lexi_Noctura
Summary: Nightmares, voices and the faces of his dead friends and family keeping him from asking her the one question he longed to asked for a while now. What makes you think she would say yes?!
Relationships: Oliver Queen & Felicity Smoak, Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Comments: 31
Kudos: 57





	1. Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Hey guys, this is my first FanFiction ever, so please be gentle... I had that idea like two years ago and never found the courage to actually write it down or publish it, especially because it’s not my native language. I am still not sure, if I like the story the way it currently is, but you can’t always hide behind your fears, right?  
> I hope they are not too OOC, I am used to write stories influenced from all kinds of books, shows, movies, my own feelings or pictures I saw on Pinterest... :D Please do tell me when you find any major mistakes, like I said, English isn’t my first language and I am always happy to improve! And last but not least: Feel free to leave a comment, I would be happy to hear what you think, good or bad, as long as it’s fair!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares, voices and the faces of his dead friends and family keeping him from asking her the one question he longed to asked for a while now. What makes you think she would say yes?!

\-------------- 

Oliver. 

Cold wind gushed around him and he felt the hard ground beneath his bare feet. Grass, trees, and rocks surrounded him.  
Oliver.  
A bodiless whisper ran through the air. 

Your fault. 

A shiver shook his body, unable to control the cold creeping into his bones. 

Who is there? 

His shaky voice echoed from the trees, eyes constantly looking around. 

You chose her. 

He knew that voice, but it wasn't possible it couldn't be her. A movement in the corner of his eye made him spin around. There, a still formless figure standing between some rocks in front of him.  
Your fault. 

The former black and gray smoke started to turn into her. First the shape of a small but strong body, then long, dark hair and finally a green hood, his green hood. Shado. Her normally warm, brown eyes were now staring at him with nothing but hatred, and suddenly a flash of pain ran through his body and forced him to his knees. 

It was you. 

With every inch she moved closer to him, the pain became worse until he was barely able to see her anymore. Right before he thought he was going to pass out because of pain, he heard a gunshot, a muffled thud and something warm dropped on his hands. Red liquid streamed through his fingers, falling to the ground and covering the ground below. Blood was pouring down from a hole in her head, running down her face and dripping down her chin onto his hands. 

You chose her over me. This is your fault! 

He forced himself to look up to see her eyes, the pain still tantalizing his body and soul, but all he could see was an arrowhead pointed at him.  
I am so sorry...  
A thud and then, there was nothing but pain and darkness. 

Hey Ollie. 

He opened his eyes and was back in his childhood home. Below him was a soft carpet, a fire burning in the fireplace. Pictures of long-forgotten days were standing on a desk, showing him with his parents, his sister Thea, Laurel. Sara.  
Ollie. 

Warm laughter filled his mind but when he turned around nobody was there. 

Where are you?  
Come and find me.  
Another soft giggle and after that, footsteps behind the door. He nearly ran to it, anxious to see her again. It just had to be her; he knew that laughter loved it even. When he reached the dark wooden door and yanked it open, there was nothing but a hole in the 

floor, expanding till his feet lost ground, and he fell. He fell deeper and deeper, until he crashed into a dark alley, laying beside a limp body.  
No!  
You killed me. 

The previously soft voice was now harsh and cold, no sign of laughter or joy left. Blond hair was covering the pavement, streaked with strands of red.  
You didn't protect me.  
The pain of the impact paralyzed him, making it impossible to get away her blood running towards him. When it reached him, he felt it hot and sticky on his face. Her blood clung to his beard, soaked his sweater and filled his nose with the smell of copper and iron. 

You failed me. 

He tried to scream, to apologize, to get up and help her, to do anything, but he couldn't. He couldn't speak or move; her blood ran down his throat and threaten to choke him with every new breath he took.  
Why Ollie? 

Her voice rang in his head, asking over and over why and how he could fail her. The last thing he saw before the darkness took over again, was a look of betrayal in Sara's dead, blue eyes. 

It should have been you. 

Smoking hot air filled his lungs burning with every breath he took. An explosion pushed him to the ground, and pain shot once again through his body. His legs gave in and he hit the soot-covered ground hard.  
You should have died, not I. 

The voice came from a body below him. Face and hair were covered in dust and ashes, blood was streaming down his mouth and forehead and a metal bar pierced through his chest. One of his fingers pointed at him, covered in blood, shaking in the effort of keeping it up. 

This is your fault. 

The person in front of him was his best friend, his brother. 

You lied to me! 

The word cut right through his soul, tormented him in every possible way. It should have been him. He should be lying there, dying, not him, not Tommy. He wanted to raise his hand, touch his friend one last time and tell him how sorry he was, but all he felt was numbness and then suddenly an all-embracing pain in his chest. Tommy stood over him his face grimaced in cruel excitement. 

You deserve this. 

The words he heard only in his head before were now spitting from his best friends’ lips. Pain radiated into every corner of his body, letting him want to scream and cry for help. But he couldn't. All he could do was watching his friend leave, laughing, while he was unable to move, dying in a collapsing building. He felt blood sicker out of his chest, more and more until coldness crept into his bones, dimmed his mind and nothing but darkness was left. 

\-------------- 

His eyes sprang open, looking for any kind of threat in the dark. Slowly he started to recognize his surroundings as his bedroom. Crouching on the floor next to the bed and holding the knife he normally kept hidden under the mattress he waited for something to happen. Another voice, another ghost of his past, but nothing. Sweat covered his entire body and his heart pounded in his chest. When he was sure, that the nightmare was over, and it was safe, his eyes immediately shot to the person in bed. 

Golden hair spread all over the pillow, her head nestled in the crock of her elbow. Her chest rose slowly with every breath, and her eyes were closed. She was still asleep and oblivious to his pounding heart, hunted eyes and shaking body. Glad, that he didn't wake her, he stood and sneaked quietly out of their bedroom. 

Right now, he couldn't handle another person. Not even her. He walked into the kitchen, placed the knife into a drawer and got himself a glass of water. Gulping it down in one sip he walked over to the couch and sat down, head in his hands, the words from his nightmare still echoing in his head. It was his fault. Shado, Sara, Tommy. They were all right. He should have protected them, he should have saved them, it should have been him. Over and again did he hear their voices in his head, full of hate and despise, Tommy's cruel laughter, Sara's dead eyes, the sound of a bullet piercing through Shado's head. He needed to get out of here, away from her. Away from the only person he never wanted to hurt. He couldn't let his darkness affect her, dim her light and her laughter. She was the only thing that kept him sane and to hurt her would 

only mean to kill him. He didn't want her to see him like this. Broken, so close to the edge of falling. He wanted to keep her light shining, and he knew, that as soon as she would see him, pain and sorrow would make their way into her heart and her eyes. Pain, that she couldn't do anything to fight his inner demons for him and sorrow that he had to live through all of those horrible things. 

He knew she would do anything for him and was strong enough to bring him back to the light. She did so the past moths, ever since they left Starling City, but even though his demons didn’t call upon him as often, he wasn't ready to pay the price for her healing words. He wouldn't drag her even further into his darkness, not today, maybe not ever. Because if he would, he would need to tell her everything that happened and that was a burden he wouldn’t allow her to carry. 

So, he stood up, grabbed one of his Henley’s laying on the couch and climbed out of the window. The cold air hit his still sweaty body, but he didn't care. He took the fire escape up to the roof, where he kept a quiver with all kinds of arrows and his spare bow hidden behind an airshaft. One shot and he was gliding over the rooftops, getting further and further away from her. His muscles worked under his shirt, rippled with every move, every jump and every dangerous stunt he pulled and turning part of his guild and terror into the strength he needed to get as far away as possible. He ran over gravel, jumped from edge to edge, slide down a skylight and only first slowed down, when he reached downtown. His lungs demanded air and he was still recovering from his nightmare, but the cold air started to clear his mind. When he finally came to a halt and climbed down a house side into a dark alley, he was sweaty and a bit breathless, but didn’t hear their voices anymore. As he walked out of the dark and onto the main street, he started to recognize his surroundings. As a teenager he came here quite often with Laurel. He bought her new dresses or sometimes jewelry, most of the times, because he cheated on her with some girl from various parties or from school. All the, was before the ship sank, before he met Shado and Slade, before she got shot and Slade blamed him, before Malcom used his sister to kill Sara and before Tommy died in his arms. Back then were happier times, even thou he didn't know it back then. He was careless, unbothered by the consequences of his action and to egoistic to see the pain he caused his family and friends. All he worried about was how to sneak out of school to hang out with his friends, get drunk or make up with Laurel after she caught him cheating on her again. But now was different. His best friend was dead for over 

three years, two women he loved were murdered and his mother killed right in front of his eyes, unable to do something. He lost so many people, he couldn't lose anybody else. He couldn't lose her, couldn't lose Felicity.  
She was everything good in his life, and alone the thought of losing her nearly drove him insane. The deaths of Shado, Sara, his mother and Tommy were torturing him for years now and the guilt he felt towards them was sometimes suffocating, but he knew, that if he would lose her, it would break him beyond repair. 

He felt the fear and panic rise in his chest again, and forced his legs to move quicker, while his fingernails dug into his palms. The freezing air started to slowly numb his thoughts and chased the panic away again. Passing several very expensive shops, he came to a sudden stop when he saw a sign in one of the windows of a small building ahead of him. 

"Engagement rings, Wedding bands and more!" 

An image of white flashed before his eyes. Quiet music in the background, people talking around him. The most beautiful laughter he ever heard and adored. Soft lips at his ear, telling him how much she loved him. Tender hands slowly cupping his cheeks and stroking his face. A deep but gentle kiss. The warm feeling, he felt so rarely anymore, only ever when he was with her. Tiny fingers wrapped around his, blue eyes looking up at him and melting his heart away. 

Something deep within him moved, pulled at his heart and planted a wish tied to his very soul. A wish he didn’t dare to have, when he came. The yearning of a real life, a wife at his side, and a family when he came home. Peace. Happiness. 

His heart started to ache again, but this time for a different reason. For a while now he seriously considered proposing to Felicity. He even had a picture in his head how the ring should look like. A platin band with a thinner carbon ring within, made out of one of his arrowheads, small green emeralds formed into an arrowhead circling around and "Always" engraved on the inside. But every time he wanted to actually get the ring, something inside of him stopped him. Sometimes it was the picture of her lying unconscious on the steel table after their first date, sometimes it was the Count pressing two syringes into her neck. And sometimes, especially after dreams like that, it was the all-consuming fear to hurt her in a way he hurt everybody around him. A small part of him always believed that she was safer without him and was hesitant to 

take that final step. But there was also that egoistic part, that didn't want to let her go, couldn’t even. That part wanted to marry her, to have her in his life until the very end, have a family with her and grow old together.  
He looked into the showcase for a long time, his minds wandering around, showing him pictures after pictures of him proposing to her, her in a wedding dress, them together in a hospital while first hearing to the heartbeat of their unborn child, her curled up on the couch after a sleepless night and him carrying their son and hugging him close. The panic and fear he felt, before disappeared completely, while the still freezing air calmed him down even more. He had no idea, how long he stood there, in the middle of the sidewalk, gazing into a showcase of rings and puffing out white clouds, but at some point, he felt the first sunrays on his skin, and knew it was time to go home. 

\-------------- 

When he came home, the sun was barely seen over all the buildings. He climbed back through the window he left from and started to head towards their bedroom. A soft snore greeted him, when he opened the door slowly and peaking inside. Her head was still rested on the crock of her elbow, and her hair surrounded her like a halo, but her hand moved towards his side of the bed, sprawled where normally his chest would be. He loved watching her sleep, but little things like that made his heart jump. Even in sleep she trusted him, sought him out, wanted him around and near. He closed the door again, knowing that if he would slip back into bed, she would most likely wake up. Instead he went back into the kitchen, started the coffeemaker, knowing that when she would eventually wake up, she would need a cup. Or three. He suppressed the chuckled that threatened to escape at the memory of last time she didn’t had her coffee in the morning. She really was a morning grouch without. A quick glance to the watch on the wall told him that it’s just past 7am, so he had at least another two hours before she would wake up on her own. 

He started to rummage through the cabins, collecting the ingredients he needed and placed a pan on the stove. An hour later, a bunch of pancakes, waffles with blueberries, two bowls of freshly cut fruit, hand pressed orange-juice and two cups of steaming coffee were put on a tray and he made his way back to their room. She was still asleep, but as soon as he placed her cup of coffee with the small pandas on her bedside, she began to stir. Her hand moved away from his side of the bed and facing the cup with a content hum. 

“Good morning honey.”  
Her face was a bit crumble from the bedsheets and her eyes still unfocused, but a small smile appeared on her lips when she heard his low voice.  
“Morning...” A soft mumble, before she pushed herself up, took the cup between her hands and took a small sip of the still steaming liquid. Her eyes started to wander from the cup towards him and only then she noticed the rest of the tray in his hands. “What’s that?” Without her glasses she could only make out the rough outlines of what he was holding, but the delicious smell continued to wake her up enough to look curiously at him.  
“That, my love, is breakfast in bed.” He smiled down at her, before his feet quietly shuffled over the floor to walked around the bed. With the tray securely placed on his lap he sat down beside her, his legs stretched out and softly poking hers in a teasing way. He couldn’t stop smiling at the sight in front of him. The sleep was still visible on her face, her hair tangled, and her shirt partly pushed up shirt revealed her flat belly, but as soon as she took her first sip of coffee, a brighter energy surrounded her, slowly chasing away the sleep from her eyes. At the mentioning of breakfast her eyes flickered between his face and the tray he was holding, eyes starting to sparkle and her lips slight parted. God, he loved her!  
“Breakfast in bed? What did I do to deserve such a treat?”  
One of her hands were still wrapped around the coffee, while the other was putting her glasses on. Her eyes widened, after she saw what exactly he had made.  
“Can’t I make breakfast for my beautiful girlfriend, just because I wanted to?”  
“Hey, I’m not complaining!” Her hands went up and a smile spread across her face, something rare at this time of the day.  
“Come on, let’s eat before the waffles are getting cold.” He didn’t have to say it twice, her fingers were already sneaking over one of the plates. They sat together on the bed, eating and talking for the next hour, she happily munching on her fruits and pancakes and he just being in awe at the women right next to him. Even after the last seven moths they spend living together, traveling the world and making a home back in the outer rims of Staring City, he still sometimes couldn’t believe how generally happy he was. 

\-------------- 

Later that day she walked into the living room after a long meeting with the board of Palmer Technologies with another cup of coffee in hands, just to see him sitting still on their brown leather couch, with stiff back and his eyes focused on something she couldn’t see. 

“Oliver?”  
Her voice pulled him back to reality, and just then he realized, that he was clenching to the soft blanket beside him. His jaw was locked and his whole body was tense. He forced his fingers to relax and spread them on his tights, willing them to relax. When his eyes came back into focus, he saw her kneeling right in front of him, her head slightly tilted and worry in her eyes. Her coffee stood forgotten on the small table behind her. His reflexes in hiding his emotion behind a mask weren’t fast enough and within a second her hands were cupping his face and gently stroking over his jaw to ease away the tension.  
“Hey, what’s wrong?”  
The sound of her soft voice calmed him down and allowed him to take a deep breath. “Nothing, I was just thinking.”  
“About what? And don’t say...”  
“Nothing.”  
“...Nothing!” She huffed slightly, as always when he tried to talk things down and her hands fell down to his forearms and squeezed them lightly.  
“I can see that something is bothering you, so what is it?”  
He locked his eyes behind her on a picture of both of them in Cuba, thinking about the ring he wanted to get and the question he secretly wanted to ask her ever since Nanda Parbat.  She is too good for you; you don’t deserve her!  
His demons came back to haunt him, after they finished breakfast. She asked him how it came to be, that he was such a good cook, and he just said, that he always wanted to expand his horizon from the island. Back then there was pretty much just cooked and uncooked. It was easier now to talk about the island, even though he still hasn’t told her everything that happened, but on some days, especially after a night full of nightmares, those stories hit hard.  
The memories of last night and the voices he heard in his head cut deep and he barely gained controlled over his emotions, before cracking through his masquerade. 

But she must have seen something, because her hands went up to his face again and forced him to look at her. Her fingers slowly stroke his cheekbones in smoothing patterns, the warmth of her fingertips slowly sank into his skin.  
“Stop it!” Her fingers moved to stroke over his jaw again, along his brow and through his short hair, until they intertwined behind his neck. She pulled him down, until he wasn’t able to avoid her gaze anymore and their foreheads nearly touched. When he finally looked at her, she pulled him even closer and kissed him tenderly. 

“Stop doubting yourself.” Her hands starting to stroke through his hair again, drawing soothing pattern on this scalp and down his neck. She kissed him again softly, but his mind was still trapped in a never-ending loop of guilt and doubt haunted by the whispers from the night. In his heart he knew that she loved him, but sometimes he couldn’t see how. He has hurt her, pushed her away, told her he could never be with her, betrayed her trust, left her even, and yet she was still here. With him. Kneeling in their living room, kissing him, loving him. But how?  You are too broken; You’re not good enough for her!  Their voices echoed thru his mind again, and he must have made shown some kind of reaction, because she pulled away from him. Her right hand rested on his chest, just above his heart, warm and comforting, while the fingers of her left started to interwind with his. 

“Do you trust me?”  
“W-What?” Her question startled him, of course he trusted her, why would she say something like that.  
“Do you trust me?” Her caring blue eyes showed nothing but love and the tension in his shoulders eased away as soon as he saw it.  
“Yes, with my life!”  
And it was true. He loved that women, gave her his heart a long time ago and his life followed right after. He couldn’t imagine a life without her in it, and he was willing to do whatever she asked him to without the blink of an I. He trusted her unconditionally and with all his heart. Her left hand moved upwards again to stroke through his hair, while the other kept resting right above his heart.  
“Then trust me with my decision, that I chose  you . I love you! I wouldn’t change this – us – for the world. Even if it means keeping up with Mirakuru-soldiers, assassins in black leather and psychopaths like Malcom Merlyn and Wade Wilson.” Her voice was strong and full of affection while leaned even closer to him, curling her body into his. 

“You are not getting rid of me, so stop talking yourself into things that are not! I love you, and that’s not going to change. Ever!”  
And with that she kissed him again. This time her soft, warm lips pulled him away, out of his head and into her world. Her words echoed through is head and banned every other thought.  I love you. I love you. I love you.  She said it before, many times, and he knew that she meant it, but right now it meant more to him that she could ever imagine. She was his light that slowly but steady defeated the darkness in his heart. 

\-------------- 

A week passed and the nightmare didn’t come back. He woke up every morning with her in his arms, draped over him like a small but warm blanket, shielding him from the thought in his head and keeping him near her.  
On Tuesday he went to the farmers marked in Ivy town to buy fresh fruit and that delicious blueberry pie she couldn’t get enough off. At least that’s what he told her. He did go to the market, and he did get the food, but afterwards he went back to Starling City, back to that alley he found himself that night ten days ago. The small shop was just where he remembered it, squeezed between two big pretentious buildings, displaying expensive dresses, shoes, purses and suits in their big, golden windows. The door was old, made out of dark, heavy wood but fell open easily as he pushed it open. The inside was different as he expected. Instead the bright colors, big showcases and polished countertops he was used too from his previous visits in jewelry stores, this one was held in darker colors, the jewelry draped on green velvet and dark wooden paneling covered the walls. The older man behind the counter greeted him with a friendly smile. 

“Good day young man. How can I help you today?”  
His voice was surprisingly strong, the opposite to his otherwise small form, gray hair and wild beard.  
“Good day to you too sir. Well, I have a very specific piece of jewelry in mind and was hoping I could find help here.” He didn’t quiet knew how to phrase what he actually wanted, the concept of asking for help still a bit foreign for him.  
“You are certainly at the right place! If been making jewelry for the past forty years and never once did I have an unsatisfied costumer.” He smiled at Oliver, a warm, proud smile. “What is it, that such a fine sir like you would like to have designed?” 

“I am looking for a ring. I have the design already in mind, even part of the material, I would like to use.” He took the small bag out of his pocket and poured the content in his palm. One of his blank arrowheads and four small emeralds appeared. “I was hoping, you can make an engagement ring out of these, together with platin.” Oliver started to explain exactly what he wanted, how the gems should be formed a small arrowhead and where exactly the engrave should be. The older man listened carefully, his fingers ghosting over a piece of paper he got from out of his jacket pocket, sketching the ring until Oliver was satisfied. It took them both over an hour on working out the exact size, from and shape, but when they were finished the ring was perfect. 

“This is one beautiful piece of jewelry you thought of young man! I will make sure, that you can pick it up before Tuesday next week. I don’t want you to wait any longer, than you already must have had!”  
Oliver grinned. He  did  wait a long time that’s for sure, and to be that close to be finally ask warmed him from deep within. 

“Thank you, sir, I really appreciate it! I will see you next Tuesday then.” He gave him his hand and shook it sincerely, something he barely ever did. 

\-------------- 

“Hey!” She greeted him with a big, warm smile, sitting on the kitchen counter and holding a book. A recipe book.  
“Hey! What are you doing?” He was almost terrified of her answer. She was talented in so many things, but he learned to be extremely cautious, as soon as she was in the kitchen for something else than coffee or cereal. 

Instead of giving him an answer, she hoped of the counter and took a pan from the stove, slipping whatever it was she made on a plate before taking a. fork and nearly shoved it into his mouth.  
“Mmm, hot, hot.” He flinched but chewed her creation once, before swallowing it whole. “So, what do you think?” Her big blue eyes looked up at him, that warm smile still dancing around her lips, anticipation written all over her face. He didn’t want to tell her. She looked so proud of herself, so happy that she did something specially for him. “Felicity... You have failed this omelet!” He tried to keep his amusement from his voice. This wasn’t the first time she tried to cook something for him, but it was either over salted, burned or just tasted strangely enough like rotten eggs. The smile on her face 

got replace by a sad pout and he had to hold himself back to kiss her right then and there.  
“Yeah...?”  
“Yeah.” 

Her forehead came resting on his chest, and all he heard was a small grumble. His arms wrapped around her, and the chuckle he tried so hard to contain sneaked over his lips, before he forced himself to stop. She must have felt it though, because her head rose, looking up at him with a mixture of disappointment, amusement and love. “Well, I guess I will just stick with making coffee and some mean Cheerios, and you have to cook all other meals.” 

“I think I can live with that.” A grin formed on his face, something a small part of him was still not really used too, before she stood on her toes and kissed him softly, the plate in her hands long abandoned on the table next to her. 

\-------------- 

The box in his pocket pressed against his tight, remembering him every second of the day on what he was about to do. It was Friday night and he told her that he wanted to cook something for her, instead of going out or doing movie night. That was something they started ever since they moved into the apartment. Every Friday night they picked something special to do together, which usually meant, that she would curl up on the couch, her feet nestled on his lap, while they watched on of the movies he missed while being away, or going out to try a new restaurant in the city. 

But not tonight. He was in the kitchen since noon, preparing the chicken he wanted to make, washed the salat, mixed the sides for the meat and made the dessert. Originally, he wanted to hide the ring on the small chocolate-mint-cake he baked but didn’t want it to get the dough stuck in the detailed jewelry or covering it in fudge. Instead he chose to ask her after dinner, hoping and fearing the answer for the last four hours. Just as he started to lay the table something moved in the corner of his eye and his instincts kicked in. His hands tightened involuntary around the white plate it held, but before he could do anything else, his body relaxed already again. Her slim form walked out of the living room, the blond hair softly swinging in a high ponytail with every step. With the deep green dress that hugged her body and showed her ivory shoulders and that smile that she had just for him, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

“You look beautiful!” Her smile grew even bigger, brightening the room and warming his heart even more.  
“Thank you!” Her eyes wandered the plates he still held in his hand. “Should I help you with that?” Her feet moved towards him, while her hands reached for the dishes, but he just shook his head. Maybe a bit too fast, but the small box against his tight nearly started to burn a whole right through him. 

“I am done in a minute, I just need to finish the table and get the food out of the oven, why don’t you just sit down?”  
She squinted her eyes at him, noticing that something was off but didn’t commented his behavior. 

“Okay...” She dragged the word a bit, her eyes still slightly narrowed as she moved slowly to her chair and sat down, fixing invisible wrinkles in her dress nearly exactly the color of his hood.  
He placed the plates on the table, the silverware followed and within thirty seconds everything was how he wanted it to be. He moved fast and efficient, opening the red wine, placing the glasses on the red tablecloth, got the salat from the kitchen and put it on the small counter beside the actual table. He left the chicken in the oven, wanted it to stay warm and juicy, while the cake stood waiting under a thin layer of cloth to hide it from her prying eyes. He knew how much she would love it and wanted to surprise her after dinner. 

One minute he poured her a glass of wine, before touching her shoulder slightly, and sitting down across from her smiling. The box in his pocket was still burning, pulsating against his tight.  
“So, what’s the occasion for such a fancy dinner?” Bright blue eyes looked at him with curiosity and watched his every move. He knew that he couldn’t lie to her. She would just look right through him, like she always did, but he could hardly tell her over a plate full of chicken, beans and salad that he wanted the spend the rest of his life with her. He tried it with a half-truth instead. 

“Can’t I cook a nice dinner for my beautiful girlfriend on date night without any ulterior motive?”  
One of her eyebrows twitched for a moment, noticing that he didn’t tell her the real reason, before her face relaxed and the warm smile appeared again on her lips. 

“Oh, I am not complaining, this chicken is delicious!” She chuckled, the wineglass in her hand shook slightly, making the red liquid swayed. “If you want, you can cook every evening like tonight.”  
“Well, that depends on how the rest of the evening goes.” A crooked smile player around his lips, the slight blush that crept up her cheeks was adorable, but he could still feel the throbbing box pressed into his leg. 

The rest of the dinner passer relatively easy. Felicity told him about her earlier videoconference with Palmer Technologies and how ignorant the board members could be, while he listened quietly, just enjoying her presents and trying to get a grip on himself. The closer they got to dessert and therefor the question he wanted to ask for so long, the more nervous he got. He felt his leg more than once start to bounce and his fingers twitch like they were holding his bow. Every passing minute made him a bit jumpier, and it got harder and harder for him to keep his mask in place, to not show her anxious and terrified he was. 

What makes you think, she would say yes? 

A familiar but at the same time foreign voice whispered in the back of his mind, making him nearly jump from his chair and flipping the spoon in his hand like he wanted to stab someone with it.  
“Oliver...?” Her voice chased away the quiet murmur in his head. 

“What?” She looked at him with concern, her blue eyes flickering across the room to the door and windows before searching his. “Ehm, sorry I thought I heard something on the roof. It’s nothing, otherwise your security system would have gone off.” He wasn’t the only one he was permanently marked from their time as Arrow. 

“Are you sure?”  
“Yes, if fine.” He forced his mask back on, blocked the slight hum in the back of his mind and focused back on their dinner.  
Why should you have what I couldn’t have? Why would she say yes? You are a killer. You killed me. Us!  
The voice in his head parted into many. Sara, Tommy, Shado, his mom and so many more. He tried to raise his walls higher, searching rescue in Felicity’s eyes but it was no use. For the first time since he met her, she wasn’t able to chase away the demons in his head. He felt himself tense up, his fingers instinctively searching for his bow and his jaw locked. 

She would never want to marry a monster, a killer, a murderer like you. What makes you think she would?  
Even though his eyes were open and his senses on high alert he didn’t hear her coming. A warm hand came resting on his left shoulder, while the other cupped his jaw, soft fingers slowly stroking over the tense muscles. The hands pulled him sideways, laying his head onto soft fabric and warm flesh. She didn’t say a word, just stroke his jaw and pressed her lips on the top of his head. Focusing on the warmth that spread through him from all sides it took him only a few seconds to lock the voices into the dark corner of his mind he never visited. 

“Better?” He felt her lips moving over his skin after a while, her fingers still drawing soothing patterns over his jaw.  
“This is not how I imagined this evening would go...” He couldn’t stop the broken and defeated laughter from escaping. 

“Really? How did you want it to go?” She knelt down beside him, hands still on his jaw, while her face was merely inches away from his. The amusing tone in her voice was a bit forced, but he knew that she tried to ease the tension that was still built up inside of him. “I had a great dinner cooked by the man I love, with a good bottle of my favorite wine and homemade chocolate-mint-cake for dessert just for me. Okay I ate only like three bites of it, but that’s just because I am so stuffed from all the other delicious food you made. But I will defiantly have another piece either later or tomorrow for breakfast. Normally I would eat something a bit healthier for breakfast, but if it comes to chocolate- mint-cake there are no rules!” Her ramble made him ease up a bit, the familiarity in it pulled him slowly back form the voices inside of him. “And then there was that chicken you made! It really should be forbidden how easy it is for you to cook something as good as that. But you do need to work on the amount of food you are making. I think we will have leftovers for the next week! And... oh god, I’m babbling again, aren’t I...?” A slight pink appeared on her cheeks before she huffed in frustration. Her warm breath brushed over him, filling him with the smell of chocolate, mint and just  her . 

She took a deep breath to calm her, but he knew from experience that the slight blush wouldn’t go away for a while, no matter how hard she tried. “What I actually wanted to say: I think, this evening is perfect. Good food, good wine, and a very handsome company.” She smiled at him, her still slightly red cheeks raising. 

Oliver took a deep breath as she smiled. Her word helped, something he thought impossible just a year ago, but the nagging, haunting whispers were still clenched around his thoughts, silently choking him, stopping him from telling, from asking.  
Her fingers stroke over his jaw, smoothing the lines on his forehead and letting their warmth seep into his skin. It took him another minute to block the voices as far as possible, so he could actually talk again. 

“You are right... I know you are right, it’s just... hard sometimes to shake the habit of looking over your shoulder all the time. I just keep expecting things to change, to break, to just turn dark, like all the times before.” He locked his eyes with hers, taking his mask off and showing her his feelings, the terror he felt, fear and pain, but also the gratitude, love and adoration he felt for her every single moment in his life. “But you are making it better. You somehow manage to lighten that darkness with just be here, being  you . You have no idea how much you save me every day with a few words.” It was the first time he told her – really told her – how much she helped him, how easily she chased the darkness into the furthest corner of his mind and how much it meant to him. The next words he very rarely used, but his voice and face showed the honesty and force behind them. 

“Thank you!”  
He spoke quietly, his eyes still locked with hers. Those blue orbs he loved so much shimmered in the dim light with unshed tears, a mixture of disbelieve, pride and awe but mostly love played over her lips, eyes and brows. After a moment she smiled at him, small but more than enough to make his heart swell and the voices retreated even further. Her hands moved just as his did, both ghosting over the arms of the other. His came to a rest in the back of her head, his long fingers tangling in her hair, while hers cupped his jaw once again. Another warm smile appeared on her lips and he tugged her closer. The feeling of her soft lips on his banished even the last of the voices from his mind, until the only thing he heard was his own thoughts and the only thing he saw was one picture.  
A beautiful white dress, blond hair braided into a complicate looking construct held together by dozens of tiny shimmering stars, the ring he still felt pressed into his tight on her elegant finger, joined by a simple, smooth platin band.  
The kiss was gentle and soft, and only held for a moment, but that was all that he needed. That short moment of peace was enough, to be absolutely sure what he 

wanted, and when he wanted it. No voice, no nightmare and no ghost of his past could take this away from him, could take her away from him.  
Are you sure?  
Tommy’s deep voice creeped up on him. 

What makes you think she would say yes? You are a murderer, a monster, why would she ever say yes?  
Sara and Shado joined Tommy’s taunting, mocking him, cursing him, trying to fill his head with only darkness, trying to force Felicity’s light, her smile and beautiful eyes and the feeling on her lips on his from his mind, wanting to cover the pictures he just saw with black fog. 

It didn’t work. Something in him changed just the slightest when he saw her all in white. Something in him grew harder, grew stronger and somehow the voices couldn’t wind their way through his thought anymore.  
Leave! 

The voice inside of him was a mixture of him, the Arrow and the confidence he sees in her bright blue eyes. He didn’t feel the need to justify himself, to defend himself or to blame himself for their deaths anymore. Yes, he knew that he had a part in each of their deaths, but he also knew, that his friends, the real people he lost, not the dark voices in his head would not blame him for it. Tommy would never deny him happiness, he was like a brother to him. Sara wouldn’t blame him for her dead, she lived a dangerous life and she knew it. And Shado... He tried to save her, just like he told Slade all those months ago. He tried to save her by making a choice, the right choice. It wasn’t his fault, and she wouldn’t blame him either. 

He realized those all those things a long time ago, but to truly accept them seemed to give him the strength to fight of the demons that lived so long inside his head.  
Leave now!  
And they did. The voices faded, the shadows dissolved, and the hatred disappeared. What was left was light, hers and his, and the image of a white gown. 

“Felicity...?”  
“Hmm?” He felt the hum of her answer under his palms, as his hands were buried even deeper in her long blond curls. His inner war must have been taken longer than he realized, because he was already looking at him, her fingers drawing slow circles on the joint of his jaw. 

Before he could pull back again, he forced himself to release his hold on her, pulling his hands gently out of the golden waves and stroke softly over her cheek.  
“I would like to... Would you... Can you stand up please?” He stammered a bit, just like he did when he asked her out for the first time, but this time not because he was afraid but because he was anxious. He wanted to ask her, right now, right here, but he also wanted to do in properly. Confusion crossed her face but got quickly replaced be curiosity and amusement. 

“You know, usually I'm the one talking in sentence fragments.”  
He couldn’t stop himself. To hear these words again only moths after she said them the first time to him made him grin like an idiot. He watched her stand up, before he pushed him of the chair to stand as well. His right hand disappeared into his pocked, closing around the little box he felt pressing into his tight ever since he put in there and pulled it out, hiding it slightly behind his back. It felt warm in his palms, almost hot, like it couldn’t wait to be finally shown to his world.  
“I have spent the worse part of five years on hell, and when I finally came back, I forgot what it means to trust, to love and to live and not just to survive. I stopped seeing people as people, only threats and targets. I stopped loving, because in those five years to love meant to be weak. And I stopped to see the good things in life. I learned to live in the dark, and to be back in Starling City never felt right.” He took a deep breath, locking their eyes and focusing on the beautiful blue that looked at him. “Until I met you. You were the first person that I could see as a person again. The first one to brighten the darkness inside of me and the first person who saw more in me that just a spoiled playboy or a broken survivor. And you have no idea how grateful I am for that. How grateful I am for all the times you patched me up, and I mean that not just physically. You have no idea how much a simple smile of you means to me, and how often you helped me by just being there right next to me.” He took her hand, but otherwise didn’t move. His fingers wrapped around hers, holding onto her and trying to show her just how grateful he is with that simple touch. Those blue orbs started to shimmer, and he could nearly see her thought racing, trying to catch up on what she missed, what he wants to tell her. “You were the first one who stood beside me without hesitation, and stayed when times went dark... You are the one who lights my way. I can’t tell you enough how grateful I am for having you in my life and how much I love you, but I would like to show you the rest of my life. Felicity...” Her name tasted like cherries on his tongue. He knelt down, his right hand flipped the box open, presenting 

her the platin, carbon and green ring while his left still held hers. “Would you make me the happiest man on the face of the earth and let me be your husband?”  
Silence.  
He stayed on the floor, looking up at her and only seeing his world. Her eyes grew bigger with every word he just said, the different shades of blue pooled together and started to shine. Her pink lips, moments ago in the shape of an astounded ‘oh’ now curled into a smile. Her blond ponytail started to bounce slightly, followed by her head. Nodding and with unshed tears in her eyes she knelt down right in front of him and pressed her lips to his. 

“Yes!” With every kiss she planted on his lips, on the corner of his mouth, his cheeks and nose, on his forehead and back on his lips she repeated those three letters. “Yes...?” The box was trapped between them, her hands slung around his neck and her lips warm on his skin. 

“What makes you think I would ever say anything else but yes?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again!
> 
> Thank you for reading it to the end (or scrolling down at least... ;) )  
> I hope you liked it, but if you have any critic, good or bad, please tell me! I will appreciate any kind of help, as long as you stay fair and respectful!  
> I had a blast writing it, even though it took me like two years to finally finish it... Ups... :D


	2. How dare you not to tell me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For a week they were happy, but Oliver forgot one thing. Thea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, me again!  
> I honestly thought that after the original story (chapter 1) I was through with this one and could start with my next project, but apparently my brain went totally wacko after reading the first comment asking for more… So, I was awake for the next three nights straight (almost) to write drafts for chapter 2 and roughly plotting chapter 3 and 4.  
> Now, I am sure, that they won’t take me another two years to write, and I am also sure – well not really, but you know… - that the following three chapters will be much shorter than 8,500 words (probably…)!  
> Anyhow, I really appreciate any kind of comments, good or bad, as long as they are fair!

* * *

A week has passed since he last heard them.

A week has passed since he last saw them.

A week has passed since he proposed.

A week has passed since she said yes.

A week has passed since he felt anything else but pure bliss.

But everything changes eventually, a lesson he had to learn a long time ago.

* * *

“You do remember, that Thea is going to come to visit tomorrow?” Felicity’s voice echoed from their bedroom-closet followed by a muffled curse and something hitting the floor softly.

A moment later a golden halo appeared in his vision, her glasses slightly crooked on top of her nose and a small grumpy expression on her face.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah… Some of the towels came down from the top shelf while I was trying to get my clothes for tomorrow ready.” She was in pale blue pajama-short, the sleeves of one of his old Henleys she liked so much reached just over her fingertips and the hem brushing her upper tights. God, she was gorgeous. One of her slim fingers straightened her glasses, while she walked towards the bed, still grumbling under her breath about stupid boards and murderous towels, his calculating eyes on her. Two feet away from her side of the bed he shot forwards, sneaked his long arms around her, and pulled her down towards him. She squealed; her voice higher than usual, but before she could otherwise react, she was already on the mattress next to him trapped on top of his large body. He wrapped himself around her like a warm, comfortable snake keeping her close to his chest and planting a kiss on top of her head.

“Oliver!”

Her voice was a bit muffled because her face was safely tucked under his chin, while her ear rested just above his heart, listening to the steady beat.

“What do you think, you are doing?”

“Hmm?”

She felt the humming in his chest under her palms and sighed softly. She loved the feeling of his bare chest, his radiating warmth and the ease she could sense within his muscles, perfectly at peace.

When she looked up, she saw him pretending to sleep. His eyes were closed and his features relaxed, but the tight hold he had on her didn’t loosen.

She kissed the bare skin beneath her lips once and then tried to get up, but with no luck. His arms tightened around her a bit more, pulling her back towards him, while one of his legs snaked around her ankles as well, pinning her effectively to his body.

“Where do you think you are going?”

Even though his voice was quiet she felt it deep within her, the vibration of his chest making goosebumps running down her arms.

“I just want to take my glasses off!”

She took a short breath, planting another kiss to his chest. “Do you have any idea how uncomfortable it is, when they nearly press your eyes into your skull and imprinting themselves into your cheekbones? Not to mention the spots, stains, and smears they will have afterward! I swear to you, every time I clean them, which is like every other day, they are covered in them and all I see are streaks or weird light reflections. And after I clean them, they stay that way for only like five minutes! It’s super annoying when I am working on my computers, so I really don’t need another smear on them, I just clean them half an hour ago!”

Though normally her rambled would make him smile, or he would lately even tease her a bit about it, he instantly loosens his grip on her, a solemn expression on his face. The thought of hurting her even the slightest made him nearly wince and he felt one of the beasts inside raise its head.

She didn’t see his face and used his chest to push herself up, taking her glasses off and looked at them closely. They had indeed some new spots, one of them even looked a bit like her eyelid, shadows of lashes printed onto them. A soft sigh escaped her lips before she turned back towards him, folding them up and laying them on the nightstand next to the black tablet he got her for last Hanukah. Wavy blond hair framed her face like a halo, while her beautiful blue eyes looked down at him with nothing but love. Well, and a bit of annoyance, but she pretty much always looks at him that way to some degree, depending on what he had done again to get himself in trouble.

She checked her phone one last time, making sure that all of her important messages were answered and the alarm for tomorrow was set before she let herself fall down on top of him again.

“I am sorry…” His lips mumbled into her hair, kissing it once, twice before wrapping her up against him once more. Seeking for the warmth she snuggled closer to him, her leg intertwining with his, while her left hand came to a rest on his chest again. Drawing slow pattern on the scarred and inked skin she felt herself relax and her eyelids getting heavy. But before the warmth of his body could pull her under completely, she remembered what she actually wanted to ask.

“Thea…?”

One of his arms let her go and turned off the lights, just to came back the next moment, tugging her even closer, stroking softly over her spine and shoulder blades. The beast inside kept studying him for another moment, looking for any signs of weakness, before laying on the ground once more, closing its glowing eyes.

“I know, I’ve got it.”

Another kiss pressed into her golden crown, before he closed his eyes as well, focusing on her calm breaths and the sweet smell of mint and her.

“Good night honey, I love you.”

“Love you too!” The last words were not more but a whisper before she felt herself drifting away.

* * *

He woke up to soft snoring, her warm back flush to his chest, and his face full of hair. Slowly he tried to reach up with one hand to brush it away, but something held him in place. Her head used his arm as a pillow and one of her hands were wrapped around his fingers resting on her stomach, while the other was sprawled across the empty side of the bed. At some point during the night, she must have taken off his Henley somehow, because all that separated him now from her wonderful body were his sweatpants and her blue shorts. The sight of her sleeping form in front of him, her lips slightly curved upwards while soft huffs of air brushed across his bicep, moved something within him. It was the same mixture of feelings that washed through him every time since he woke up next to her on their first morning together. Peace, quiet and happiness, together with a deeply embedded voice whispering _mine!_ over and over again, claiming her for as long as she would allow it. He pressed a soft kiss on the back of her hair, before burying his nose in her neck to breathe her scent in. Sometimes he was still shocked at how easy it was for his senses to lose themselves in her, but nothing in the world could stop him from savoring every moment with her he has. _Mine!_

He felt her stirring beneath him, as he planted small kisses beginning at the hollow of her throat up to just behind her ear.

“Good morning.” His lips brushed across her ear and the felt the light shiver that runs down the back of her neck. Instead of an answer, she only snuggled closer towards him and burring herself even tighter into his embrace. He continued his mission of showering her skin with featherlight pecks until he felt her starting to hum softly and turned in his arms.

“Morning.” Her voice was still drowsy, but a beautiful smile played on her lips. He planted another kiss on her neck before pressing his lips lightly on her forehead, lingering there for a moment.

“Slept well?”

The only answer he got was s small huff of air across his arm, before her hands wrapped around his neck and pulling his face closer, her eyes still closed as she kissed him. They laid there for a few moments, just enjoying their little bubble of happiness before the alarm went off. With a sight, Felicity wanted to roll out of his embrace and out of bed but found herself once again trapped against his body, unable to stand up or even really move for that matter.

“Just a few more minutes…?” His lips brushed her ear just like before, knowing exactly the effect it had on her. It didn’t help. She started to move again, and this time he loosened his hold on her, allowing her to get up, even though his fingers lingered as longs as possible on her bare skin.

“Um, Oliver…?” She looked down at him, still only in her shorts, first glancing at her body and then scanned the floor quickly.

“Where is my shirt?”

“I do not know… but I do love the view!” With one arm he pushed himself off the mattress as well and stood right in front of her with a look of admiration and love. His lips found hers again, but before he could pull her into bed again, she took two steps backward, getting successfully out of his reach.

‘Coffee’ was all that she said, before she disappeared into the adjoined bathroom, closing the door behind her. A few moments later he heard the shower being turned on and music started to play from inside. For a second he played with the thought to join her, but with Thea on her way, he wasn’t willing to risk being caught from his sister. So, he went into the kitchen, turned on the coffeemaker, and started to prepare breakfast.

It has been a long time since he saw his sister in person, instead of just Skyping with her from Bali, Peru, or the Caribbean or talking with her on the phone. He promised her that he would cook dinner for her, when she comes over, and maybe even bake that strawberry-cream-cake that she loved as a kid, and her voice jumped an octave higher in the prospect of a sweet childhood treat. Raisa used to bake for the two of them all the time, cookies, pies, cakes, sweet cupcakes, and fruity muffins. It took him a while, but he managed to get the recipe out of her, with the promise to do just as the recipe tells him to, no rushing and only fresh strawberries. And he did just that. He bought three pounds of strawberries on the farmers market, knowing just all too, well that Felicity would steal some before the cake was even done, and that Thea ate them like she was breathing air.

* * *

Thea was supposed to come around two. The doorbell rang at noon. Oliver was still busy in the kitchen and trying to decipher Raisa’s handwriting, while Felicity sat on one of the stools at their small bar, tapping on her tablet, mumbling quietly under her breath about strings and proxies. Even after more than three years, he still had no idea what she was talking about, but the sound of her rambling softly to herself made him smile. She looked up when she heard the door and glanced quickly at the watch above the fridge.

“Could you go get it? I am still trying to understand if I should use three, five, or eight ounces of sugar…”

“Sure.” She hopped off her stool, tablet still in hands, and walked towards the door, her bare feet padding on the hard wooden floor. Expecting the mailman or their neighbor Ms. Millers asking again for her missing cat, she opened the door.

Thea stood across from her with a big grin on her face and in one hand a small but colorful bouquet in a crystal vase.

“Thea…!” Felicity was startled for a second, checking the time again and looking at the young Queen before shaking her head and stepping aside. Oliver raised his head and smiled at his sister, before turning back to his book, while one hand cracked an egg into a bowl.

“You are early!” It should have sounded excited but the slight confusion she felt on seeing her friend standing grinning in front of her, made her voice sound a bit high than usual.

“Yeah, I know. I was at Verdant, finishing some of the paperwork and didn’t want to go back home, just to leave it again an hour later. So, here I am!” Her grin grew even wider, before she stepped into the apartment, her eyes jumping quickly from one corner to the other. Ever since she trained with Malcolm, her instincts in checking out a place for any kind of threat, nearly matched Oliver’s. She placed her dark blue Gucci bag on the small table next to the door and turned around again.

“I do bring a gift though!” And with that, she pushed the vase into Felicity’s hands. Hastily putting her tablet next to Thea’s bag, she took the vase, still a bit surprised to see the young woman but with an equally big grin on her face.

“Thank you, they are beauti…” Thea interrupted her before she could even finish her sentence. Her future sister-in-law stared first down on her left hand holding the flowers, then up to her, before her eyes quickly jumped over to Oliver and then back to the hand. Her brother was still working in the kitchen, leaning against the counter while stirring something in a bowl.

“Oliver Jonas Queen, how dare you?!”

Her voice boomed through the apartment and echoed off the walls, before she marched over to her brother, her back straightened and hands curled into tight fists. Right now, with the anger Felicity could feel radiation off of her, she had more in comment with Malcolm than she ever noticed before. She came to a halt merely inches in front of her brother, and even though she was several inches smaller than him, she managed stared down on him.

“How dare you?!”

Her voice was filled with anger and something else Felicity couldn’t name. Disappointment? Hurt? Oliver didn’t flinch at her voice but looked at her in confusion through narrowed eyes.

“Speedy. How do I dare what?”

Felicity didn’t see Thea moving, only heard the sound of her fist hitting his shoulder, hard before he reacted. She wasn’t sure, if she caught Oliver off guard or if he allowed her to hit him, but he didn’t move, didn’t even flinch when her fist crashed into him.

“The ring on her hand? The engagement ring on your fiancé’s finger? How could you not tell me? I am your sister!” Thea's anger vanished as quickly as it came. Her hands fell to her hips, with slack fingers and her shoulder sagged a bit forward. Those green eyes he knew since birth looked still at him, but the fury inside was replaced by hurt, confusion, and sadness.

Before he could say something, Felicity moved from her spot at the door, with the flowers still in hands.

“I am… yeah, I am going to put these into water. Or well, at least check if they need water. I mean, I obviously don’t have to put them into a vase, but maybe I find some of that white powdery stuff that they sometimes pour into the water, for nutrition and stuff… Coffee, then I need a coffee! And maybe I should change as well, I didn’t expect you to come this early, otherwise, I wouldn’t be in my old sweatpants, even though they are totally comfortable, and… and… oh god, I am babbling again! I swear I am not doing this on purpose, I mean, it is already a bit awkward, I didn’t want to…”

“Felicity.”

“Oh, right, sorry! Well, I will, um, yeah, I am in the bedroom changing...”

Her face was bright red and her blond hair fell slightly over it, in an attempt to hide the blushing. She quickly went into their bedroom, the various flowers still pressed to her chest with one hand, while the other started to fiddle with her ring on her finger, twisting it round and round. The door got closed, and the siblings were alone.

Oliver focused back on his little sister, who was still standing only a few inches in front of him, but now her fingers fiddled with the hem of her shirt instead of being forced together.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Ollie?” Her voice sounded thin, sad. The look she had in her eyes, reminded him of the time when she was younger. It was the same look she had when she was eight and their father didn’t come to one of her school plays. Disappointment, hurt, and betrayal.

“I am sorry Thea, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He used the same voice he used all those years ago, calming and soft, trying to comfort her as best as he could without giving her poor excuses for what had happened or lying to her. “I wanted to ask her for a while now, but something always got in between, and when I finally bought the ring, I just asked.” He shrugged slightly; a smile stole itself on his lips. Just thinking about the night he asked, made him feel lighter. He didn’t want to tell her about the nightmare he had, couldn’t show her this side of him, not even after telling her that he has been the Arrow.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and her head crocked slightly to the side. Her eyes were still sad, but slowly he saw also the pain being replaced by something warmer.

“When did you ask her?”

“A week ago.” She raised an eyebrow and for a moment she reminded him of their mother, looking at him with a serious expression, demanding to know more than he just told her.

“I had the ring made two weeks ago, near where you and I used to go shopping after school. A week ago, I cooked dinner for us two and asked her afterward. And she said yes.” His smile spread into a full-grown grin with the last words, her answer echoed in his head.

“Gee Oliver, I feel like I was there with you.” She deadpanned with a blank expression, before grinning just as widely and pulled him into a tight hug.

“I am really happy for you!”

“Thank you, Speedy!”

They stood like that for a minute, before both heard a door opened not-so-quietly, followed by a short curse and Felicity stepping out of their bedroom, now dressed in jeans and light pink blouse.

“Um, sorry, don’t mind me…!”

Oliver smiled at her lovingly and Thea laughed. She pulled back and punched Oliver again, this time much softer.

“But if I have to find out that I am going to be an Aunt by a birth announcement, I will kick your ass into next year!”

The thought of having a child didn’t scare him as it would have just a year ago. A part of him already started to imagine how their kids would look like. Would they have blond hair like he does or Felicity’s darker hair? A girl or a boy? God, he hoped that they wouldn’t behave like him as a teenager, otherwise they would have their hands full. His thoughts were interrupted, when he heard Felicity in the background gasp, turning bright red and nearly dropping her coffee mug.

“Yeah, we haven’t talked about it…” He lowered his voice so that only Thea could hear him and grinned at her. “But you will be the first one to know!”

With that he turned around and walked towards the kitchen again, planting a kiss on Felicity’s cheek before starting to work on the cake again. Luckily he just had gotten started when Thea came, otherwise, the cream would have gotten warm and stale.

Felicity still stood a bit awkwardly at the counter, holding her coffee just a little bit tighter than necessary, the ring on her finger reflecting in the sunlight.

Thea beamed at her and walked over.

“So, it seems like we will be sisters!” She touched Felicity’s fingers softly. “Can I see it?”

She grinned at the younger woman, put the mug away, and held out her hand.

Oliver listened to them both chatting along, while the voice in his head just kept repeating _Mine!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soo. thank you for reading!  
> I am working on chapter three and four and hoping to update within the next two weeks, but lately, my attention is the one of a toddler: all over the place and rather jumpy... Anyhow, I will post soon again, till then:  
> Your comments are most welcome and making me grinning like an idiot! Toodles ;)


	3. If I survive this, I will marry you!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a quick look around to make sure that there was no immediate danger, he pulled her into his lab, his fingers franticly searching for major injuries on her unconscious body. Blood dripped from a corner of her mouth, her glasses were gone, and a thin layer of red covered her forehead.   
> No, nonono, please don’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, I am so sorry that it took me so long…! My assignments, classes and RL are killing me lately and every time I tried to sit down and actually write something, it was a weird combination of a toddler, a normal human being, a lot of Denglish and a very distracted and tired me…  
> I really hope, that I didn’t went overboard with the events of this chapter, or to OOC with Dig, but if so, please do tell me!   
> Sorry again that it took me so long to post this chapter… but at least it’s a long one (12k... :D)!  
> And I am always looking forwards for any kinds of comments, good or bad, as long as they are fair!

“John called earlier.” Felicity peered over the panda-covered coffee mug she was holding and saw Oliver tense for a second at the mentioning of their friend, before taking another sip. “He managed to crash my computers while tracking a local crack-dealer and asked me to come over to Verdant to fix it.” She knew, that it was a dangerous game to mention Diggle in front of him, but slowly she got tired of their behaviors. Ever since Ra’s Al Ghul came into Starling City and Oliver kidnaped Lyla, John refused to talk to him, and Oliver refused to understand why Diggle was so angry with him.

“We should tell him about the wedding. I really don’t look forward to another one of our family to flip out, just because we didn’t tell him.” It was true, John was for her like the big brother she never had, and she would trust him with her life without hesitation. Well, she already trusted him with her life on multiple occasions, and he was the one person – besides Oliver – she could talk to about her problems of both of her lives. He was family in her eyes.

“I would go and meet up with him at the club at five, do you want to come too?” She could already see him hesitating, the slight twitch in his fingers betraying him. Over the years she got really good at reading his body language, even though he had tried to hide his feelings behind a mask of stone.

“I would like to tell him our news together.” She smiled at him, her hands still covering the small pandas. His fingers twitched again, before laying down beside his own cup, looking at her knowingly. He knew that she was playing him, but he just couldn’t say no, when those beautiful blue eyes looked at him like that and she gave him one of her warm, soft smiles. He sighed.

“You already know my answer to that question, don’t you?”

Jumping off her stool she walked over to him, wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Yes, I do.” Before she could react, he pulled her down onto his lap and kissed her, his arms holding her in a tight embrace. Those words reminded him of what he – what they – soon would have, and it filled him with the same warmth he felt four weeks ago when she said yes.

* * *

One of the perks of being CEO of Palmer Technologies was the limo they could use whenever they needed it. Felicity loved it. Something of sitting in a black limo, a private driver behind a black window, and the fancy interior remembered her of Las Vegas. Not that she ever rode in a limo there, but just the sight of it was something familiar something from her childhood.

They reached the club a few minutes after five and Diggle was already waiting outside. Felicity hated it to be late, it always messed up the plan she had for the day.

At the sight of him, standing there with crossed arms and a soft smile on his face she grinned and hastily climbed out of the car. It had been nearly a month since she last saw him, and she had missed him.

“John!” The grin on her face grew when she saw her friend standing in front of her before pulling him into a hug, his broad figure nearly swallowing her.

“It has been too long! I mean, I know we talked on the phone, but it is good to see you in person again! Even though you broke my babies! Didn’t I tell you not to mess with them?” She took a step back, a smile still on her lips but her hands started to wave wildly in front of her. “How did you manage that anyway? I left you clear instructions on how to use my programs, so I know for sure, that you did try to mess with the coding, right? What was it? Did you want to get your results faster? Do you have any idea how big a pain in the butt it is, to try to figure out what you did?” Diggle just looked at her, an amused expression on his face. He knew that it was no use to interrupt her when she first got started in talking about her beloved computers. He didn’t really know what he did wrong, and he most definition didn’t even try to understand her coding, but she was right; it was nice to see her again, so he just stood there and quietly endured her talking faster than any other human being he knew. A movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and his back stiffened. Oliver just got out of the limo, and came to a stand only a few steps away from the door, looking first at Felicity and then to Diggle.

“Why is he here?”

His deep voice interrupted Felicity’s lecture without looking at her, his eyes still fixated on the man several feet away. For a moment he thought he saw something almost like hurt flicker over Oliver’s expression before Felicity’s hand came to a rest on his forearm, which was now again crossed over his chest.

“I asked him to come, you two need to talk.”

Her blue eyes bore into his, silently asking him to do her the favor. Meanwhile, Oliver stepped closer to her, stopped just behind her smaller frame, and nodded over her head at Diggle.

“Dig, it’s good to see you again.”

“Oliver. I wish I could say the same about you.”

_Well kid, looks like you lost your mate_. The voice in his head sounded a lot like Slade, mocking him with the same disdainful pitch he heard so many times before. Oliver started to feel his anger rise. He didn’t know what else he could possibly do to fix things between them.

“Okay, that’s enough!” Felicity stepped between them, a dangerous glare in her eyes. It was rare to see her like that, but Oliver learned to keep quiet when she used that look on him. Her blue eyes nearly blazed with anger, and even though she was several inches smaller than them, she somehow managed to stare them down.

“You know, I haven't said anything up till now, because I was hoping that the two of you would remove your heads from your own asses without assistance. Turns out I was wrong.” The anger in her voice rose, while her eyes shot from him to John and back.

“Hey!” Oliver was about to take a step forward and lay a hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her and stopping her from pacing between them.

“Oh no! This is the part where I talk and you two listen. I am so sick of watching you two acting like little children. You both are grown men but act like the other broke your favorite toy. I understand that what happened left scars, but damn it, you two fought side by side together for nearly three years, and always had each other’s backs! And now you both,” she poked her slim fingers first into Oliver’s chest, then into Diggle’s who was just about to open his mouth and protest, “are just too stubborn to try to understand the other on, or even hear him out. But you know what? That ends now! Because the two of you are going to sit down here until you have resolved your issues. Do we have an understanding?”

Her whole body was tense, her hands now clenched to fists at her side and her blond ponytail whipping from side to side, her eyes glaring at them, openly challenging them to argue with her. Neither of them did.

“Do we have an understanding?!” She repeated her question, this time louder and with more force. With the look of a scolded boy Oliver raise a hand in surrender. He wasn’t afraid of her, but he knew that she would their lives, especially his, a living hell, if he would refuse. And he knew that she was right. Diggle was still standing across from him, but he also looked like a kid, not daring to do anything but nodding.

“Yeah.”

“I am going to fix the problem with the program. If you two haven't figured out your issues by the time I get back, I'm going to find a bunch of Mirakuru soldiers to knock some sense into you.” She threw one last look at each of them, before marching into the building, the soft click of her heels louder than usual. Oliver knew that she was serious, and he didn’t like it a bit. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself for the fight he knew was going to come and turned towards his best friend.

“It’s been months, man. And I… I don’t know how many apologies, I mean… John, you are a forgiving person…”

“Oliver, this isn’t about forgiveness, man.” Diggle’s voice was harsh, laced with pent-up anger from months of not talking about what happened. He took a step closer to Oliver, opening his arms as if to challenge him, but stopped in his track. “I don't know how to move forward with this. There was a time I would have taken a bullet for you. And I don't know if I would do that now. You crossed a line, man. And the fact that you could do that again sits in the back of my head somewhere.”

He knew that. Oliver knew firsthand how loyal Dig was towards him, and how deep his betrayal went.

_Traitor!_

The voices he hadn’t heard in a long time came back, seeping through the walls he built in his head to block them out. The walls that cracked just a bit more with every new word his friend threw at him.

Instead of listening to them, he allowed his own anger to rise, allowed it to overshadow the whispers in his head, and stood up taller, his posture now mirroring John’s.

“I get it! I get it. I understand that I crossed a line. I understand that I lost your trust. What I do not understand, is why you won’t give me a chance to earn it back!” He felt helpless, something he hated. To be helpless meant to be weak, and to be weak meant to get killed. At least during the last eight years in his life. The voices inside of him found their way past his wall and the red layer of anger again, starting to taunt him

_He doesn’t trust you._

_Good, it would only get him killed. It killed me, you killed me._

_What kind of monster betrays the only real friend he had left like that?_

Oliver’s jaw clenched and he bit back the urge to snarl at the voices out loud. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a second, John’s glare still hefted on him, and blocked them out again, this time with layers of pale blue, blond and a warm smile.

_Leave!_

It worked like it did before. The whispered vanished again, fading behind the wall in his head and making it easier to think clearly again.

“I don’t know, man. Give me time, okay? I know that you are sorry, but it just takes time. You didn’t trust me, so how can I trust you? And not only that, but you kidnaped my wife! And put my daughter in danger with that move you pulled. I don’t care if you say that you had everything under control. I don’t care that you had a plan. Do you have any idea how it feels to know that the woman you love, your wife, has been kidnapped by your best friend because some psycho asked him to?!” John took another step closer, his fingers twitching, but he didn’t do anything else than stare at Oliver, his anger blazing in his normally friendly eyes like fire.

“Okay. If time is what you need, then I can give you that.” His voice was plain, his anger and hurt kept hidden behind the mask he put back on. It was hard to see the man he would call a brother to be that angry with him, but he knew that he deserved it. _You do deserve it, kid_. Slade’s voice made his fingers involuntarily long for his bow, but he agreed with him.

A door snapped shut behind them. At some point in their argument, they both turned their back on Verdant, so neither of them saw Felicity come out again, her purse loosely hanging from her arm. She still seemed angry with them, but her strides were less forceful and the burning fire in her eyes faded.

“So, what is it?”

She came to a halt between them once more, hands pushed into her hips, first looking into Oliver’s eyes before raising a brow at John.

“Truce. Anything else needs time and proof.” John's voice lost the sharp tone it had only seconds ago, and the angry glare he gave Oliver got replaced by an emotionless look, their expressions equally plain. Her eyes narrowed, and Oliver could tell that she wasn’t happy with that answer, but she kept quiet. Giving each of them one last serious look, she stepped to the side and pulled her tablet from her purse.

Apparently, one of the external, encoded servers went down and crashed her program, something that shouldn’t have happened.

“I don’t know what went wrong, but it won’t happen again.” Her expression lightened and a smug smile appeared on her lips while wiggling her fingers. “Nothing a little bit magic couldn’t fix. So, John, you shouldn’t have any problems anymore.” She gave him a warm smile, before turning towards Oliver and taking a step closer to the parked limo. “I would be happy if the three of us could go grab some food from Big Belly’s, but apparently you two thickheads still need to work it out. Dig, don’t be a stranger!” and with that, she walked to the car, the driver opening her the door, and got in.

Oliver was quick to follow, but not before nodding at Diggle, at least trying to build the burned down bridge again. The other man just looked at him, his expression still blank but the tension in his shoulders was almost gone.

* * *

It would take them about forty minutes to get back to their apartment and Oliver was half expecting Felicity to start talking about him and John as soon as they left the parking lot. But she didn’t. Oliver frowned, wondering why the woman he intended to marry kept this quiet. She rarely ever was, especially if something was bothering her, but right now she was just sitting next to him, her fingers playing with the platin band, tracing the small, green gems and turning it around her finger over and over again. After about ten minutes of silence, he covered her elegant fingers with his, forcing them to stop fiddling, before squeezing them lightly.

“Are you okay? You didn’t say a word since we left Diggle. You didn’t even try to find _a bunch of Mirakuru soldiers to knock some sense into us_.” His lips curled into a small smirk, hoping to get one of those warm smiles in return, but she still kept quiet, her eyes now locked on their joined hand in her lap.

Another minute passed before she talked, still focusing on their hands, now tracing small patterns on the back of his hand.

“I heard what he said. About how he felt when you took Lyla. I was there when he confronted Nyssa. I saw the anger and desperation he felt, and I thought I understood how he felt.” She swallowed, her gaze finally lifting from his fingers and now concentrating on his face. “I thought I knew what he felt, after you send us away in Nanda Parbat, but just to imagine that I could lose you now…”

Suddenly she got thrown against the window, her head hitting the glass hard with a loud thud, before being pulled to the other side again. At the same time, Oliver’s head snapped back against the headrest, pulling several muscles in his neck, and then he felt something crashing into his left shoulder, but before he could realize what happened his instincts kicked in. His arms wrapped around Felicity’s frame as good as possible, pulling her under him and trying to block her from the impact with his own body. He heard something crack when she crashed into him, but he didn’t let go. A cracked rib was nothing compared to what could happen if he let her slip. The few seconds it took for the car to stand still felt like an eternity, all of his other senses on high alert while all he could feel was warm blood on his chest, where he had her head pressed onto.

The inside of the car was pure chaos. The window on Felicity’s side was shattered, broken glass all over the seats, her purse was spilled out on the floor and her tablet was cracked. With one hand searching for the handle, and the other still tightly wrapped around her frame, Oliver opened the door and dragged them both out onto the street. After a quick look around to make sure that there was no immediate danger, he pulled her into his lab, his fingers franticly searching for major injuries on her unconscious body. Blood dripped from a corner of her mouth, her glasses were gone, and a thin layer of red covered her forehead.

_No, nonono, please don’t_. With blood-covered, shaking fingers he searched for a pulse, and the voices in his head rose with every passing moment he couldn’t find it. He felt numb. His bruised knuckles left a crimson trail on her skin and he felt panic rising within him until he finally felt a weak but steady beat beneath his fingertips. Relieve filled him up for a second before cradling her closer to him, begging her silently to open her beautiful blue eyes, while images of her lying on a cold, steel table washed over him. The memory of their disastrous first date threatened to drown him, and all that kept him next to her was the steady beat of her pulse and the warmth of her body.

With her unconscious body in his lab and her head carefully leaned against his shoulder, he kept her like that, until he heard sirens in the distance crying.

* * *

The next twelve hours was an endless event of bright lights, examinations, and waiting.

The paramedics found them in the middle of the road, surrounded by shattered pieces of their limo and the corpses of another car, bend into a nearly unrecognizable ball of metal.

Their first attempt to examine her were greeted by an animal-like growl from Oliver and an expression worthy of being the Arrow, his instincts telling him to not let her out of his sight. His mind was still foggy from the accident, a voice inside of him threatening to kill anybody who dares to touch her, while another one told him that she needed the help they were offering. It took them precious minutes to convince him to let her go, all the while his murderous glare was fixated on their every move. In the end, the promise to take him to the hospital in the same ambulance as her, instead of waiting for the next one, made him give in. After quickly examining the cut on her forehead from crashing into the window, they laid her carefully on a stretcher and wrapped a cervical collar around her neck. Oliver doesn’t remember a lot from the ride to the hospital, but the voices inside of his head tortured him merciless and the feeling of her warm hand in his.

_She can’t die. She can’t…_

_This is your fault!_

_It should have been the other way around!_

_How did this happen?_

_No, please don’t die!_

_Felicity…_

Their voices shifted from one to a dozen, not a single person anymore, but many friends, family and enemies, dead and alive, his own and the Arrow, all echoed at once through his head. Layers after layers of pictures of her on the floor, blood on her forehead, her cold body in his arms, her in the foundry on a steel table, and her, covered in bruises and cuts, created a thick curtain of agony in his head. Guild, terror, and pain ran in his veins, and even the feeling of her hand and pulse under his touch wasn’t enough to chase these imagines away.

The next thing he remembered clearly was the ER. As soon as they entered, several nurses came rushing to Felicity, hooking her up on a heart monitor, checking her pupils and breathing, while pushing further into the building. When he tried to follow, one of them stepped in his way, carefully putting a hand on his chest. He felt cold.

“You can’t follow her in there my dear.”

Her voice was sounded old, and she was at least a head smaller than him, but something in the way she said it, took him out of his haze. He forced himself to stand still, his fingers twitching for his bow, longing to do something, anything to help the woman he loved.

“That cut on your cheek needs stitches and we should take a look at your hands as well. Do you have any other injuries we need to take care of?” Oliver looked down at his hands, only now realizing how bruised they really were. “Jeff – of the medics that brought you and your wife in – told me, that you refused to let them have a closer look at you before she was taken care of.”

_Wife…_

This simple word hurt and soothed his pained mind at the same time, pulling him back into reality even further, and allowing her silently to lead him into a more private consulting room to wait for the doctor. While he waited, Mary, the nurse got a clipboard to work with him through standardized questions.

“Mr. Queen, I would need some information from you, if you feel up to it.” He just nodded. It wasn’t a surprise that she knew who he was, he had been in this hospital a lot as a kid and teenager, and even though the name _Queen_ wasn’t as popular as it was before, people still recognized him with ease. “So, your name is Oliver Queen, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, good. And what’s the name of your wife…?”

He swallowed, trying to keep his racing emotions locked away under a mask of empty looks and short answers, while his blood turned a bit colder. “Felicity Megan Smoak, my fiancé.”

“Oh, I am sorry, I didn’t mean to assume! I just saw her ring before they took it off, to….”

“They took it off?” His voice was as cold as he felt and his fingers curled involuntarily into tight fists, the beast inside of him demanding to be unleashed. A deeply growled _Mine!_ echoed in his head. Mary took a small step back but didn’t flinch at his change of posture. She worked in this hospital for a long time already and saw every human reaction in situations like this.

“Yes. We need to get her an MRI so we can check if she got any kind of cerebral damage from your accident. I can get it together with the rest of her belongings if you wish, but first, you need to answer the rest of my questions.” Her voice reminded him of Raisa, whenever he was trying to throw a tantrum as little boy. It was understanding and soft, but at the same time stern and wasn’t tolerating any argument.

Suddenly he felt tired, the adrenalin from the accident, the shock of seeing Felicity’s lifeless body, and the fear of losing her finally catching up with him, making his head heavy and dizzy. He felt a small, warm hand wrapping around his arm that guided him to the hospital bed to sit down before black spots started to dance in front of his eyes, and a throbbing pain radiated through his skull. A concussion. He knew the feeling all too well. Normally he would just work his way through it with gritted teeth, but together with his worries about Felicity and the stress from the last hour, he felt his knees giving in. As soon as he reached the bed, he collapsed onto it, his legs refusing to carry him any further. The hand on his arm stayed, the grip grew stronger, keeping him upright. It took him a minute till he could see past the black spots and hear past the throbbing in his head, but the coldness remained. Mary stood next to him, a soft but concerned smile on her lips, her fingers still around his arm.

“The doctor will be here shortly to check on you and give you an update about your fiancé. I only need to know if there is anybody we should contact or anybody who should come…?” Her voice was just a faint buzz in his ear, but he knew what she wanted to know.

“No.”

He thought about telling her to call Thea, but he didn’t want to worry her, and right now he wouldn’t be able to have her around anyways.

“Alright, dear. I will go and get her belongings; you seem like you need a moment for yourself.”

Oliver just nodded, barley understanding what she was telling him. The blood in his head rushed through his ears and the beast inside still demanded to be heard. It wanted to do something, anything. It wanted to put the hood back on, it wanted to haunt whoever did this to her down and it wanted to make him suffer. The creature wanted to lash out, his fear for her feeding it, making it stronger, and sending waves of pain and anger through him. His still blurry vision stared to be clouded by a red curtain, anger, and desperation building up inside of him to the point where he felt his fist pressed into his tights, trying to hold it together. He took a shuddered breath to calm himself, the sound resonated in the empty room. A pair of pale blue eyes shined through the red layer, smiling at him before soft laughter filled his head.

_She can’t die. She won’t die!_

Still sitting on the edge of the bed, he stood, his finger running through his hair, tugging at the ends and dragging down his face before he started to pace through the room. The red fades with every step he took a little more, the beast still barking and growling, but know back on its leash, the blood rushing through his ears slowly ebbed away. The headache from his concussion was still there, but he had worse. Just as he turned for the tenth time at the door, the doctor came in. She was maybe in her forties, had dark hair, and held a clipboard in her hands, looking at it while entering the room.

“Ah, Mr. Queen I take it? How are you feeling?”

“I am good. How is Felicity?”

His head stopped spinning a while ago, and he wanted to know, what was going on. It has been two hours and he started to get impatient.

“Your fiancé is in surgery. Her MRI showed the beginning of a brain hemorrhage, something we have to treat as fast as possible before the damage on her brain is permanent. We are…”

But Oliver didn’t listen anymore. _No…!_ His mind threatened to pull him under again, showing him images of her lying limp and bloody on a table, surrounded by wrecked cars and broken glass. It was hard to pull back from the darkness. The memory of her voice before he proposed coaxed him back into reality, replacing her bloody and bruised face with a warm smile, and tears in her eyes, right before she said yes.

“… wants to talk to you, when we are done here.”

“Yes, sure.” He nodded, knowing without listening, that Captain Lance would want a report about what happened.

Dr. Schwartz took a look at his forehead and bruised knuckles, before looking for any other injuries. He had a cracked rip from catching Felicity and a nasty bruise on his shoulder where her head collided with his bone but otherwise was unharmed. She wanted to give him a local anesthesia before stitching the cut on his forehead, but he refused, claiming he wouldn’t need it. Knowing his medical record, she treated him without, placing three stitches over the wound before giving him an antiseptic cream for his hands.

She finished up, just in time as Captain Lance stepped in. He greeted her with a short nod, before turning to Oliver, a grim expression on his face.

“Queen.”

“Captain Lance.”

Oliver was glad to see him and even hear the familiar harsh tone of the older man’s voice. He knew, that they both didn’t get along that well, but he had to admit, that Lance was a good policeman, and knew what he was doing.

“How is Miss Smoak?”

His voice was softer then, like always when he talked about Felicity, true concern waved through his normally rougher appearance. Sometimes Oliver thought he recognized that voice, from when Lance talked about his daughters.

“I don’t know. She is in surgery right now…”

His voice faded, not knowing what else to tell the older man. And then Lance did something that startled Oliver more than anything else he did before. He walked over to him, laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it softly.

“She is going to be alright; she is a strong woman!”

Oliver just shrugged. She was a strong woman, the strongest he knew, but the sheer thought of losing her killed him bit by bit. Lance took a step back again and pulled out a small notebook, his face now plain again, but with a bit more warmth in his voice.

“I just came from the accident. It seems like you got hit by a drunken driver. He is currently in ICU, but the doc’s say, he won’t survive the night.” _Good!_ The beast inside of him snarled. _He deserves it!_ Oliver couldn’t stop the thoughts, his anger, and the need for revenge starting to fill his thought before the harsh reality pulled him back again. “Your driver was dead before anyone could help him. They say he didn’t suffer. Broke his neck when the other car hit yours. Can you tell me, what you remember of the crash?”

“Yeah, sure…” He forced his mask back on, pushing his fears and worries into the deepest corner of his mind, and started to talk, the cold liquid in his veins slowly turning to ice, as he replayed what happened in his mind.

Lance spend the next hour writing down everything Oliver could tell him about the accident, before receiving a call he had to answer. 

After he left – not before squeezing Oliver’s shoulder again – Oliver was alone in the empty room, waiting. Waiting for news from the nurses and doctors about Felicity. Waiting for hours to pass. Waiting for the barking beast inside of him to lay down again. Waiting for the headache to fade. Waiting for the voices to haunt him.

He waited and minutes turned into hours, but his mind was dull. And he was thankful for it. At some point, he started to paint her face in his mind, recalled every last detail he knows about her features, how she moves, the curve of her lips, the way she pushes her glasses back up, the sparkle in her eyes when she talked tech and the pink brush whenever she caught herself rambling. It replaced the grey veil over his thoughts, chased the dullness away, and kept the whispers away and turned his blood a bit warmer, turning it cold instead of icy.

Oliver jumped from the bed he was sitting on, as soon as he heard the doorknob turning, his eyes searching the intruders face for his worst fears.

“She is out of surgery.” Mary had a soft smile on her face and looked over the edge of her glasses at him. He couldn’t hear a hint of concern in her words, and the spark of hope he kept hidden in his thoughts grew a bit brighter. “It will take her another few hours to wake up, but you can go and visit her if you want.” Before she even finished her sentence, he was halfway to the door, the small zip bag of her belongings held safely in his bruised but clean hands.

“She is in room RE306, it’s just two floors above us, on the...”

He was out of the room, before couldn’t hear the last words, already looking around to find the next staircase, too impatient to wait for the elevator.

Five minutes later he stood in front of a hospital door, the small window showed his fiancé laying still in bed, IV’s going from her arm to a small bag of fluids, the green line on the heart monitor constantly jumping up and down, and her chest ringing and falling slowly but steady. He opened the door quietly and stood a second later next to her bed, looking down at the sleeping face beneath him.

A few light scratches covered her skin and her head was wrapped in white bandages, three stitches barley at her hairline.

Light grey circles underlined her closed eyes and her lips were a bit paler than usual, but she was still the most beautiful person he has ever seen. His vision started to get blurry from the joy that rose at seeing her alive and breathing. He bent down and pressed a kiss on her cheek, sending a silent _Thank you_ to whoever was listening, before blindly pulling a chair closer and sitting beside her. Her left hand laid over the covers in front of him, her ring finger showing a slightly lighter shade of skin, where her ring should be.

The Ziploc still in hands, he pulled her ring out, before placing the rest neatly on the small bedside table. Her hand was warm and when he took it, he could feel the soft beating of her pulse. The ring slipped on her finger and replace the slightly lighter circle of skin with platin. _Mine!_ The beast inside of him laid down again, the growling now replaced by a soft hum and for the first time since the accident, he felt actual warm.

* * *

An hour later he heard a soft knock on the door before a tall, dark figure entered the room.

“Hey man…” Even though he spoke quietly, his familiar deep voice echoed from the walls.

“Dig, what are you doing here?”

Oliver kept his voice cautious, not wanting to start a fight again, and too tired to argue with the man in front of him. His friend stepped closer, before coming to a halt at Felicity’s feet, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“Lyla told me. Apparently, Argus had its eyes on you and as soon as your names appeared in the police records, they knew that something happened. It took her a while though to figure out where they took you two, otherwise, I would have come sooner… How is she doing?”

Oliver planted a kiss on the hand he has been holding for the last hour and looked down at her sleeping face, before turning towards Diggle, his voice close to a whisper.

“I don’t know. She came out of surgery a while ago, because of a swelling that threatened to damage her spinal cord, and the doctors say, that it went without complications, but they have to wait, till she wakes up.”

Too tired to hide his emotions completely, he allowed his voice to show his former partner part of the worries and pain he felt.

“She is going to be okay, man. She is one of the strongest women I know.”

He only nodded before focusing his gaze on the shimmering metal around her finger.

“Thank you for coming” His voice was still close to a whisper, a small voice in his head keeping him from speaking louder in fear of waking Felicity up or disturbing her much needed rest in terms of getting better. “I know that you are still angry with me, but it means a lot to me, that you came.”

“Anytime, she is family!” John took a step closer, now hovering over Oliver with an earnest expression featuring his whole stature. “Just like you.”

Oliver’s head shot up, his confusion pulled his brows together, before he really understood what the other man was saying. His hands tightened a bit around the elegant fingers he was still holding, seeking her warmth to anchor himself for what he just heard, what it could mean.

“I know why you did what you did Oliver. I will never call it good or right, but I do understand why you did it. When Lyla told me, that you two were in an accident, I felt just like all those years ago when they told me, that Andy got killed. We had some very heavy arguments, and I never got the chance to talk with him about it before he died, that is something I cannot fix. I don’t approve of what you did, but I can try to fix this. I forgive you and trust you, man. And so does Lyla. Felicity was right, we both fought side by side for long to not trust the other, but if you ever go behind my back again, there will be no coming back, do you understand?” John shifted from one leg to the other, his expression still serious, but the steel he had in his eyes hours ago was gone, replaced by a sincere look.

_Oh, look, even your mate wants to kill you, kid._

_Forgive you… Trust you…_ Dig’s words echoed through Oliver’s head, slowly dimming Slade’s voice. He knew that John offered him a second chance, something he didn’t take lightly.

“I do.” Oliver nodded his focus fully on the other man.

“Lyla reminded me earlier, that I already lost a brother and that I should start to work not to lose another, before nearly throwing me out of our apartment to come see you two.” A soft chuckle escaped the bigger man, while Oliver slowly pushed his chair back and stood, one of his hands still circling Felicity’s, to look his friend straight in the eyes, waiting for what would come next. John's hand landed on Oliver’s shoulder. “I am glad that you are alright man!”

The small shimmer of relief Oliver felt before, now washed as a wave over him and allowed a grin to appear on his face, while he felt the taunting voice inside of him to slowly fade into nothing, making him feel lighter than before and easing further his mind. His worries and frustration with John and his shame about what he did, had plagued him for the last several months, and even though Felicity was balm for his soul and mind, the friendship to Dig was just as important to him.

“Thank you, John, you have no idea how much that means to me!”

The older man just nodded, his hand laying firm on Oliver’s shoulder for another moment, before moving away and slightly gesturing towards the smaller hand Oliver was still holding onto, one of his eyebrows rising.

“So, do you want to tell me about it?”

Oliver felt himself grin even brighter at the thought of the promise they made to each other. He looked down at his fiancé once again, before taking a breath and started to tell his friend what had happened. He told him about the ring and the dinner, how he asked her, and even told him how Thea had beaten him for not telling her.

“We wanted to tell you, even talked about it this morning, but you heard her… _bunch of Mirakuru soldiers_ …” Oliver felt his ears warming up a bit and squeezed her hand involuntarily, a soft but sad smile ghosted over his lips. _Mine!_

Diggle laughed, his voice echoing from the hospital walls, before he stopped himself, looking apologetic down at Felicity.

“Finally, man! I was expecting you to ask her months ago!” His laughter turned into a quiet chuckle before he clasped Oliver’s shoulder firmly. “I am really happy for you Oliver!”

_Happy…_

A thought jumped into his mind, something he was hoping for since Felicity accepted his proposal. When he was younger, before The Gambit, before Lian Yu, he always thought he was going to marry Laurel, Tommy by his side, and his mum in the front row, right next to his dad. Ever since they were kindergarteners, Tommy was his best friend and the brother he didn’t have. They played together, fought each other, drank and partied alongside, and had the others back, whenever Malcolm told Tommy what disappointment he was, or his dad tried to force him into the family business. They were brothers in every way that mattered.

_And yet you killed me!_

_I didn’t. Your father killed you..._

Diggle was right, he already lost a brother, but so did Oliver. But Lyla was right too, he also found one. He had thought about it, but the way they were just this afternoon forced that wish into a small, dusty corner of his mind – until now.

Oliver’s free hand landed on John's right shoulder before grinning at him.

“Good, because I would like to have you as my best men!”

* * *

John stayed for another hour before a nurse came to check Felicity’s vitals and threw him out. ‘Family only’ was all she said, ignoring Oliver telling her he is, in fact, family. With the promise to come back at visiting hours Dig left the room, closely followed by the chubby nurse.

They had talked a lot in that time. They skimmed the topic of Ra’s Al Ghul but quickly switched, neither eager to remember what happened. John asked him about the accident while reading Felicity’s file hanging at the end of her bed. Oliver asked about Lyla and baby Sara. Sara started to walk around the house, holding on to every edge she could find and falling on her butt more often than not, but the way Dig talked about his little daughter, the soft, warm love in his eyes made Oliver long for the same thing. He flashed back to the first time he visited Lyla in the hospital after Sara was born and the way Felicity glowed when she saw the newborn. He felt the familiar wish to have that one day on his own, a wife, a child, a family. For a brief moment, he saw Felicity in a soft, wide shirt, cradling a small bundle to her chest, love radiating off of her. He saw tiny fingers wrapping around his callused ones, a soft, blond patch if curly hair pocking out of a green blanked, a tender gurgle filling the room.

The vision only lasted a second, but he felt his love for the woman beside him grow even bigger, the imagines staying in the back of his mind, pushing away some of the worries he held ever since her head hit the window.

After his friend left, he sat once more next to his fiancé, taking her hand and pressing a soft kiss to her temple, before resting his eyes on her sleeping features, losing himself in his own thoughts. He dragged himself down the darker paths of his mind, worries, concerns, fears, hatred, and anger brushing him, trying to pull him deeper into the dark. Blond, curly hair, a white dress, soft laughter, a green blanked, classical music and warm skin took his mind back to lighter places, showing him pictures, feelings, imagines, chasing the shadows into a far corner of his head. The voices kept silent.

It was way after midnight when his head jerked upwards, his instincts telling him something had changed. Scanning his soundings for any threat he felt his muscles tense beneath his skin, ready to protect his unconscious fiancé from any kind of threat. Nothing. Looking down at her, he saw her still asleep, her fingers still laying lax over the covers. For a moment he didn’t know what had woken him until he heard the soft beeping of Felicity’s heartrate-monitor. It was faster than before. Rushing back to her side, he took her hand gently, searching for her pulse at her wrist. Her heartbeat was faster and stronger. She was waking up.

Just like on command he felt one of her fingers twitch weakly in his grasp.

“Felicity…?”

His voice was soft, the fear of losing her rose once again, weaving his concern into the words. His right hand held onto hers, while his left softly brushed over her forehead, feeling the warmth of her skin under his touch.

“Felicity, honey, can you hear me?”

Her fingers twitched again but didn’t move otherwise. Oliver squeezed her fingers gently and pressed his lips gently to her cheek, trying to coax her away from sleep.

A soft, barely audible hum escaped her throat, but before Oliver had a chance to react or call a nurse, her heartbeat slowed down again, going back to its former rhythm.

“Felicity?”

Panic rose within him and threatened to take a grip on him before he forced himself to take a deep breath, remember what Mary said early. She told him, that it could be possible that Felicity would start to wake up when the sedatives faded, just to fall back asleep, while her body was trying to get as much rest as possible to heal itself.

He pressed another kiss to her forehead, lingering, waiting, and hoping that she would open up her eyes and smile at him, but she didn’t. Her steady breathing ghosted over his neck, the warmth of her lips and the pulse he felt under his fingertips kept his worries at bay, slowly convincing him to sit back down, and let her rest and wake up at her own conditions.

Over the next couple of hours, her fingers twitched every once in a while, and she even mumbled something at one point but didn’t wake up. Giving in to his need of rest, he fell into a light sleep on the chair next to her bed, never once losing his hold of her hand and responding instinctively to her movements by tightening his grip around her fingers ever so often.

“Hey…”

Oliver jumped from his chair and sleep so fast, that his stiff muscles pulled, locking tight in his neck, but he didn’t care, didn’t even really notice. Lowering his eyes, he saw two blue orbs, half-covered by tired eyelids and a small smile on soft lips. Felicity was awake, and all he could do was stare at her, taking her in like he never saw her before. _She is awake. She is here. She is… awake!_ His mind ran a mile a minute and he felt a grin burst out, his fears slowly fading, getting replaced by pure joy to see those beautiful eyes again. His hands found hers, encircling them, bringing them to his lips for a tender kiss.

“Hey, beautiful!”

The soft smile on her lips grew, love glistered in her tired eyes.

“Wha’ happ’nd?”

“We had an accident.” He couldn’t tell her about her injuries, the image of her unconscious in his arms still burned into his mind. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired… an’ thirsty.”

Releasing one of his hands, he turned around and pushed the small, black button to call the nurse, something Mary told him to do, as soon as she wakes up. After a moment he heard footsteps behind the door, followed by the turn of the doorknob, before the same chubby nurse walked in, who threw Diggle out merely hours ago.

“Is she waking up?”

Her voice was stoic, her eyes ghosted over Felicity with barely any emotion and more focused on the clipboard in her hands that the patient in front of her. Oliver didn’t like her, but keep the growl from his voice, too glad to feel Felicity’s finger curl a bit in his own.

“Yes.”

“How are you feeling miss?”

Felicity’s eyes closed for a moment, before forcing them back open, her soft voice filling the

room.

“Tire. Thirsty. And my head hurts.”

Like she wanted to make a point, she shifted slightly but winced as soon as she moved, her formerly relaxed face contorted in pain. “Ow…”

Oliver wrapped his one hand around her more firmly, leaning over her bed instinctively, while the other ghosted softly over her cheek, trying to soothe her pain. To see her beautiful face grimace up under such a small movement, killed him a little bit inside.

“The doctor should be here within the next ten minutes and will discuss your condition with you. I will go and get you a cup of water but are not allowed to give you any painkillers until the doctor says otherwise. Do not move, it will only pull on your stitches.” All the while she barely looked at Felicity, scribbling something on a file, her voice monotone, bored even, before turning on her heel and walking out of the room.

Oliver felt his muscled tense once again, furious on how the woman he loved was treated.

“What a sunshine…”

Her voice was still quiet but already gained back a bit of her usual glee. The feeling of her fingers curling slightly in his hand and the sound of her voice pulled him back from his growing anger.

“You should have seen her, how she kicked John out.”

Those blue eyes he adored so much wakened up with every passing moment, and color came back to her slightly pale face.

“He was here?”

Oliver couldn’t resist her gleaming face and pressed a soft kiss on her cheek, the beast inside quietly humming _Mine!_

“Yeah; he got kicked out some time ago but said he would come back to visiting hours.”

She only smiled, learning her lesson not to move her head too much. Her hand he was still holding, twitched and pulled back from his grasp, before hovering just above his jaw, her warmth radiating over his skin, before laying down gently, caressing the light stubble of his beard.

“What happened?”

He swallowed. He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to remember her unconscious frame in his arms or her bloody feature in the ambulance. Didn’t want to remember the hours he spent waiting, fearing, hoping the new that would inevitably come. _She nearly died. You nearly got her killed too!_ His eyes closed for a second, forcing the voices back again before focusing on the warmth of her palm and the softness of her lips, smiling up at him.

Taking a deep, calming breath he started to tell her what happened, his voice quiet. “We had an accident. A drunken driver crashed into our limo. You hit your head pretty badly and they had to get you into surgery to prevent any kind of permanent damage.” His fingers ghosted over her bandaged head, not daring to touch the white cloth in fear of hurting her. Instead, he trailed his fingers gently down her temple, tracing her cheekbone and settling on her jaw, mirroring her hand on his face.

“You’ve been in there for hours… I... you really scared me…” It was still hard for him to talk about his feelings with others, but Felicity always knew what to say to soothe his aching heart and mind.

Her fingers stroke over his jaw, while drawing small pattern on his skin. The smile grew even warmer, concern and love filled her eyes and before he could stop her, she pushed herself to her side, her blue orbs now fully facing his.

“I am here now.” Her ring finger wiggled a bit before his eyes. “For better or worse.”

“For better or worse.” His voice nearly broke with her words, before he caught himself, taking her hand and planting a light kiss in the ring, his eyes never leaving hers. Right, when he wanted to tell her something more, the doorknob twisted once again, and Dr. Schwartz came in, a clipboard in hands.

“Ah, Miss Smoak, I see you are awake. How are you feeling?”

“Thirsty. And I can feel my blood pumping through my head…” Even though she still had a soft smile on her lips, Oliver could see the pain behind her features, trying to hide it behind her babbling.

“I will give you some hydromorphone for that, but first, do you think you can answer some questions and are up for some tests? Later one we are going to run another MRI, but for now you would just need to do some simple things. I want to make sure, that the surgery went without problems or side effects.”

“Sure.”

Dr. Schwartz started to ask her a series of simple questions. How she felt, where the pain was, if she can feel her toes, what her full name was if she can remember what happened, where she studied. She asked her to pronounce several different words, to see if her language center worked fine and even gave her something to write to check her motor skills. Oliver sat next to her, watched her face, and tried to read her feelings, needing to make sure, that she was really okay. After the tenth questions, she couldn’t suppress the yawns any longer, her eyelids closed

more often than open.

“Okay, it seems everything is fine so far. I will schedule you for your MRI in the afternoon and give you your hydromorphone so you can rest. Mr. Queen, I take it you are staying?”

He only nodded, not really looking at her but fixating on his fiancé, nearly asleep in front of him. Even though she seemed fine and passed all the tests and questions, he was still worried about her. He wasn’t sure if that feeling would ever fully go away again. The only thing that kept him relatively calm was her hand once again in his, and the soft snoring she made with every other breath.

* * *

She was allowed to go back home after a week in the hospital, under the condition to stay off her feet, rest, and come back as soon as something changed for the worse.

The wound from her surgery was small and healing well, but she still was tired most of the time, the bruises on her body making it painful for her to move around too much in their apartment.

She fell asleep on the couch, curled against him and softly puffing out her breath over his chest, the bruise from her head injury shimmering yellowish on her skin. He made dinner earlier and ordered her to stay on the couch instead of walking around and trying to help him. It was still dangerous to allow her to cook, or even help, and he enjoyed and even needed the feeling to take care of her. They had eaten on with their feet probed against the small, wooden coffee table and then watched a bit TV. She drifted away after the first ten minutes and he couldn’t bring himself to wake her. The feeling of her body pressed against his side, and his arm slung around her calmed the still worrying thought that nagged at him.

Looking down at her sleeping form, and tracing the healing stitches with his eyes, he started to let his thought wander.

Dig came to visit several times over the last few days, bringing groceries and meds, because Oliver refused to leave Felicity’s side. Their friend came and hugged her, joking in his stoic way and told her how happy he was for both of them getting married. They didn’t talk about the actual wedding, the accident, or the fact that Oliver seemed to be stuck to her hip, following her every movement with his eyes. At least not, while she was awake.

The other night she fell asleep on the couch again, too stubborn to go to bed and Oliver had to carry her to their bedroom to tuck her in, knowing that she still needed rest to heal. When he came back out, he found his friend waiting for him at the kitchen counter, a serious expression on his face.

“It wasn’t your fault man!”

He could still feel the slight shiver that ran down his back. His demons left him alone for the most parts of the day, and only came out, when she was asleep next to him, blaming him for what had happened. He knew that it wasn’t his fault, that it was the drunken driver, who caused it, but the small nagging part of him still growled and tormented him, showing him the same pictures over and over again.

“I know.” He sighed, his eyes locked on the countertop. “I just… I can’t lose her.”

“She is fine. You know that! You just brought her to bed after she told both of us something about the newest firewall or something. And you heard the doc, she is going to fully recover, no permanent damage, and every time I am here, she is a bit more energetic.”

Oliver remembered the conversation, remembered how he ran his hand through his hair before looking at his best friend, searching for another source of confirmation, another reason to stamp down the demons in his head. And he remembered the ease his friend gave him, standing in bis kitchen, his arms crossed over his chest, looking at him like he was scolding a child like he was pointing out the obvious. And he did.

His fingers stroke slowly through her blond curls, mindful of the still pink and scabbed wound just above her left ear, untangling the golden waves and reveling in the warmth of her skin. She shifted under his touch slightly, mumbling softly before falling back into her sleep, while snuggling deeper into his side. Oliver loved the way she trusted him even in her sleep but knew that she couldn’t stay on the couch all night, so he gently moved away from under her, only to bend down and pick her up, carrying her back to bed, like he did just days before. Laying her under the covers he went to switch off the light, before slipping next to her, curling around her to convince himself, that she was alright, safe in his arms. His voices kept quiet, the beast within humming again a content _Mine!_ before he drifted into sleep.

* * *

Oliver woke from his sleep with such force that he nearly jumped out of bed. First, he thought he had another nightmare, like last night but the imagines of her limp body in his arms, fire surrounding them, a green line slowly fading, and cold hands in his own were only a vague memory. She was still asleep, lying next to him, her chest rising and falling slowly but steady and her whole body spread over his side of the bed. Her hand rested on his abdomen, while her legs were tangled with the sheets, one foot wrapped around his calve. A soft sigh escaped him, he didn’t wake her up, her soft snoring still filled the room. Only after making sure, that she was alright Oliver focused his senses on his surroundings. It was quiet, and a short glance at the clock told him that it was just past eight, the sun brightening the room slightly through the closed curtains. A quiet rapping made him snap his head towards the door. It was Sunday morning, and someone was knocking. 

“Thea…” Oliver growled under his breath. Since his sister found out about their engagement and crash, she developed the annoying habit to just stand in front of their door at pretty much any time, demanding to speak with Felicity about the wedding, asking about her recovery or smacking him – again – for not telling her about the accident.

Easing Felicity’s hand from his stomach and untangling their legs, he stood, before covering her with their blanket, knowing just too well how fast she felt cold without him next to her. He walked out of their room and picked up a shirt to put on, before opening the door with an annoyed expression, ready to tell Thea to come back at a reasonable time. It wasn’t Thea. It was Donna.

Felicity’s mum marched into the apartment with an expression between determination, worry, anger, and fear.

“Where is she?”

She growled. The small, dolled up woman Oliver saw only two times in real life, growled at him, her blue eyes reminding him of Felicity when she was seriously pissed with him.

“Donna, what are you doing here?”

“Where is she? I just heard  _ over the news _ that my baby girl had an accident  _ two. weeks. ago! _ So where is she?! _ ” _

She was actually scary, her face reddened, and her eyes nearly blazed with the angry fire within. But behind the fire, Oliver could see a deep worry and concern, tears hidden beneath the fury. Oliver rose his hands in a calming gesture, before closing the door behind her, slowly leading her to the kitchen counter. The smaller woman followed him, her pink purse gripped tightly and the scowl on her face seemed to grow even darker.

“Uhm, she is still sleeping, but if you want to–”

“What’s going on?”

The soft mumble behind him made him involuntary smile, and before she came around the corner he already turned and walked towards their bedroom door, enveloping her in a gentle hug. His lips pressed down on the crown of her blond hair and the warm feeling he always felt around her filled his whole body.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?”

“Fine, but what’s–“

“Felicity Morgan Smoak!”

Donna had followed Oliver and stood now next to him, her angry voice boomed through the hallway, making Felicity shriek and burring her head in Oliver’s chest before realizing who was talking to her. After seeing her mother next to her, her jaw went slack and she stepped out of his embrace quickly, but he took her hand and tangled their fingers together before she could go too far. Donnas pink heels tapped the floor and her hands were stemmed into her hips, glaring at her daughter like she was still a little girl. 

“Mom? What are you doing here…?”

“What am I doing here? What am I doing here?! I hear  _ in the news _ that you were in the hospital  _ two weeks ago _ and you didn’t think it necessary to tell me?”

“God… I need coffee!” And with that she walked toward the kitchen, tugging Oliver along and leaving her mother standing in the hallway. A short noise close to a growled echoed from behind her, before her mother appeared once again in her vision, hand still on her hips. Knowing just too well, that one of the women wouldn’t survive without Felicity’s daily shot of caffeine, Oliver pressed a soft kiss to her temple and went to make some tea. She would have liked coffee better, but the doctor said she shouldn’t drink it for a while, to make sure she could sleep enough. He turned his back towards both of the blonds to give them some sort of privacy while rummaging through the cabinets.

“I am waiting.”

Donna's voice was still pitched and angry, but the concern Oliver saw earlier hidden in her eyes now started to surface, making her voice flutter a bit.

Felicity groaned, dragging her fingers over her forehead, just to flinch as soon as she touched the still painful cut right behind her hairline. Her mother darted forward, her hands cupping her face and tilting it down, taking a closer look at the pinkish line. Donnas eyes went wide, before the anger in her eyes disappeared complete, washed away by the now forming tears. 

“What happened…?”

The teapot started to whistle, and Oliver fixed the tea quickly, seeing the tension in Felicity’s shoulders. Walking just behind her, he laid his hand on the small of his fiancé’s back, enjoying the warmth spreading through his palm for a second, before placing her panda-bear-cup gently into her hands, together with a tender kiss to her temple. 

The movement caught Donna's attention and her features jumped once again from concern to anger, but this time mixed with an expression of joy. Taking her hands for her daughter's face to the delicate fingers encircling the black and white cup, Donna tapped with her pink nails slightly against the shimmering band. Oliver could see the wheels in his future mother-in-law’s head turning, while her mouth opened and closed soundless, searching for words. Joy and glee, together with disappointment and anger, concern and love played and chased each other over Donna's face, and he felt Felicity’s muscles under his hand tens even more with every passing second her mother was silent. Oliver’s arm circled her waist and pulled her closer into his side, his thumb drew slow circles over the cotton of his Henley, soothing the muscles beneath.

“Why don’t you go into the living room and talk, while I will start with breakfast? How do you like your coffee, Donna?”

The older woman closed her mouth and stared at him for a second before looking at her daughter again, crooking an eyebrow at her – just like Felicity when she was expecting an answer of something she already knew.

“Oh, I don’t drink coffee, but a sweet tea would be nice, thank you.” And with that, Donna walked toward the living room, her heels clicking on the wooden floor. As soon as she was out of sight and earshot Felicity groaned before burying her face in his shoulder. Trying to hide his chuckle, he took the cup from her hands and placed it behind him on the counter, before wrapping both arms around her, engulfing her in a warm embrace.

“She is going to kill me… why is she here? I don’t want to… I can’t deal with her crazy right now. Do you have any idea how much overboard she is going to go when she hears about the wedding? God, I will never hear the end of it!” She rambled in his chest, her annoyed and slightly panicked voice muffled. Oliver just stood there, keeping her close and pressing another kiss on her golden crown, a soft smile on his lips.  _ Wedding. She is going to marry me!  _ He could nearly see the sleeping beast inside of him smiling at that thought, while the other voices were quiet, chased away by the woman tucked under his chin. “I think you have to go to your mom. I am pretty sure she will come back and drag you to the couch if you don’t go over there soon.” This time he didn’t hide his chuckle. Felicity’s only answer was another groan before trying to hide even deeper in his arms. Kissing her hair again, he pulled back a bit, looking down at her to place a gentle kiss on her lips, before stepping back, his hands now only loosely on her waist. Another groan and she nodded slightly, standing on her toes and kissing him just as gentle, before walking around him, taking her favorite cup and walked toward their living room. Before disappearing to talk to her mother, she turned around with a smile, and her love for him in her eyes. “If I survive this, I will marry you!” 

Over the next forty minutes, Oliver kept himself busy in the kitchen. He prepared the pancake batter, cut fruit into small pieces, brew another cup of tea for both women, and brought it over, getting Felicity’s meds she had to take in the morning and listened to the scraps he could make out from the other room. He met Donna before and knew, that she had a rather jumpy personality. It astounded him though, how different but at the same time similar both women were. At first, Donna was angry. She apparently accused Felicity that she didn’t love her, for she didn’t call her after the accident, or even that she was in the hospital ‘ _ for a week! _ ’. At the mentioning of the accident he could hear her tear up and sobbing, a quick peek through the door told him, that she was clinging to Felicity’s and petting her hair, while her daughter just patted her back awkwardly. The next thing Oliver heard was a squeal that echoed through the whole apartment, followed by a very detailed – and correct – analysis of the engagement ring. With that Donna's voice pitched, if possible, even higher, followed by a low groan and jumped into the wedding planning, just like Felicity said. The following fifteen minutes were a constant babble from Donna about the wedding, combined with the occasional sight, groan, and once even something that sounded very much like Mirakuru soldiers. After finishing the last pancake, he arranged everything on the table and walked into the living room. Both women were sitting on the couch across from each other, Donnas heels discarded on the floor in front of her, and Felicity’s legs tugged beneath her slim form. At the sight of him leaning against the doorframe, he saw her face lighten up, the frown on her face disappeared completely before reaching out a hand to beacon him to her side. Stepping closer and taking her hand, he kissed her softly, relishing in the feeling of her warm lips on his.

“Breakfast is ready.”

“You two are so cute together, I could almost forget, that I am still angry with you honey!”

Thou his future mother-in-law seemed fin, he felt Felicity’s fingers twitch in his hand. Looking down at her, he saw an idea forming behind her eyes, silently asking him if it would be okay with him. He knew what she wanted to ask, and he couldn’t care less about it. As long as he could marry her and could stay by her side for as long as she lets him, nothing else mattered to him. Searching her face for any doubt, his smile grew only bigger, before planting another kiss on her lips, this time a bit longer and a bit deeper. Pulling back, he squeezed her hand and gave her a nod, silently support for what she was about to say. With a deep breath, he saw the determent look growing on her face like she was about to hack into a complicated security system.

“Mom, would you like to help with some of the planning for the wedding.”

The only answer they could here was another squeal, and he saw her flinch a bit at the high-pitched sound. She still got headaches rather quickly when things were too loud, or she started to stress, so Oliver took a step closer to the couch to sit just next to her, tugging at her hand to come closer and hugged her tightly to his chest.

The soft growl in his head made him smile, his lips involuntarily found her forehead before slightly nuzzling into her hair.  _ Mine! _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I am so sorry, I took me so long...  
> I will try to finish the last chapter sooner, but I sadly can’t promise anything…  
> I honestly don’t know, if her injuries and the way they treated them is the correct medical way, but I tried to keep it as logical as possible, and had a good deal of help from my old friend Punzel. Thank you for helping me along with the medical stuff! (even though I had to rewrite half of the chapter…)  
> *Lexi
> 
> PS: I hope the formatting isn't as bad as it seems right now, word, AO3 and my "beta" seem to have some difficulties...


	4. How could I not say yes?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just before she kissed him, he could hear her voice whispering through the night. “What makes you think I would have ever said anything else but yes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> I AM SO SORRY for taking so long, I seriously kicked my ass for the last month(s)… The quarantines and stuff are slowly really getting under my skin, and I needed to focus on 50 different things at once to stay more or less away from totally losing it, which is why it took me so long to finish this one up.  
> Again: I am truly sorry for letting you wait this long, but I hope you enjoy the last chapter of this story!! :)

* * *

Something soft like music hummed in the back of his head and the air smelled fresh, clean. He turned around but he didn’t really see anything, his sight blurry and spotted. Golden, white streams mixed with orange and red layers and dots of bright blue clouded his vision, creating a scenery like a washed-out painting. The colors started to shift like they were moving, like they were alive. 

He knew, that normally everything in him would have screamed to be careful, his anger would have crashed against the dam he built around it and the fear he always felt, the one that had coined him for so long would have wanted to breach, but nothing happened. 

Instead of caution, he felt eager to be here. Instead of fear, he felt excited about the golden and white streams. Instead of the cold anger, he felt warmth pulsating through his veins. 

_Why do you think, you deserve this?_

He flinched involuntarily and the warmth he felt moments ago sept slowly out of his body again. 

_Why would she say yes?_

The white and golden ghosts dulled into a black, grey, and muddy brown. A dark and familiar voice spoke, whispered from the outside and from within him, and a shiver ran down his spine. 

_You are a murd –_

_Hmmm…_

A trace of mint filled the air and the music grew louder and echoed through his mind, bringing back the warmth to his limbs, stronger than before.

_Would I…_

He knew that sound. No music, but a voice, _her_ voice. 

It chased the venomous whisper away, replaced it with a soft, soothing hum vibrating through his whole body. The streaks and streams of color grew clearer, creating an image he saw before but was at the same time foreign and new. A dim light filled the room around him, the golden shimmer shaped into hair, like sunlight, the white gleam into a long dress, embraced in ivory pearls, hugging the slim frame of a woman, with red lips smiling at him. She was sitting in front of an old, heavy table, just like the one his family had in their manor, and in the background, a fireplace was filling the room with orange and red flickers. Something warm closed around his hand, tugging him closer to the woman now standing only inches away from him.

_Yes…_

Something warm and soft caressed his face, ghosted over his cheekbones, along his jaw, and landed on the corner of his mouth before the gentle touch stopped over his lips. He couldn’t move nor see what or who was touching him, but it didn’t matter. Her warmth, the way of her gentle pressure over his skin and the smell that enveloped him, was answer enough. Just like her voice, her touch was imprinted into his mind in the most treasured way. 

Golden strands fell into his vision and surrounded him, blocking anything else out but her beautiful face, red lips, and bright blue eyes. He could feel himself smiling up at her, the table, candlelight, and soft music from before and now gone, replaced by something soft beneath and light above him. Just before he saw her face clearly, lowering to kiss him, he heard her voice in his ears and mind, singing and humming, her laughter in the back of his head.

_Yes!_

* * *

Oliver woke up to soft kisses trailing along his jaw and a hand stroking through his hair at the nape of his neck.

The feeling of her soft lips coaxing him gently from his sleep and he hummed with contentment. Felicity was half lying on her side, half on top of him, her body draped over him like a warm, soft blanket. Their legs were tangled together, his hands loosely around her waist. He loved it when he woke up with her in his arms. To wake up knowing that she was there, safe and warm, was something he would never take for granted. Over the last eight months, his nightmares became fewer and further apart, the accident now only a memory. It had taken him nearly two weeks to sleep through the night after she was released from the hospital and a pretty angry outburst from her a month later for him to _stop fussing already._

He tightened his arms around her, pulling her closer and returning her kiss, his eyes still closed, relishing in the feeling of having her near. Her lips curled into a small smile, before pulling away. 

“Good morning. Slept well?”

“Mhmm.” He kept his eyes closed for another second, while the warm glow from his dream still ghosted over his eyelids, before opening them, looking back into sleepy, blue eyes.

“Why are you already up?”

Felicity chuckled softly, before she pulled herself fully on top of him, straddling his hips and leaning forward, an amused smile on her lips.

“It’s hard to sleep when your pillow starts to hum. Good dream?”

“Yeah. But waking up like this is better!” And with that he weaved his fingers through her hair and pulled her down, meeting her halfway and claiming her lips in a deep, slow kiss. They stayed like that for a while, her body firmly lying on top of him while her nails stroke through his hair, scratching at the nape of his neck. He let his hands graze down her neck, and over her sides, before wrapping them around her slim waist and pulling her even closer to him. Oliver was careful not to brush over a particular sensible spot just below her left rips. The first – and last – time he did that while being in bed with her, she had squealed and bit him before her knee had collided with his groin and made him see stars. Wanting to feel her soft skin under his palm, he slipped under his former shirt hanging loosely around her ever since last week. She had snuck it from their closet and just grinned at him, before allowing him to pull it off of her again. The memory brought a smile to his lips and he felt the familiar longing for her touch rise on his chest. _Mine!_ He was just about to deepen their kiss even further, but she pulled back, propping herself on his chest, their legs entangled.

“Breakfast?” 

He sat up, his hands trailed back up her spine, tangled through her hair again, and pulling her closer. Just before their lips touched, he stopped, enjoying her ghosting breath over his skin and the closeness of those beautiful blue eyes.

“Now…” He let his lips brush over her cheek, “or maybe”, they ghosted along her jaw, “later?” and landed a hungry kiss on her lips.

Her fingers dug into his neck and pulled him even closer, pushing them both back onto their bed.

“Hmm, later sounds good…”

* * *

One hour and a shared shower later Oliver stood in the kitchen, flipping a pancake while letting his thoughts drift. Tomorrow. Tomorrow was their wedding. Tomorrow he would be hers and she would be truly his. He still couldn’t quite believe it sometimes, that she said yes. A month into their engagement he woke up to one of his nightmares, sweaty and panting. Her blank eyes had followed him back into their bedroom, his lungs tight and he had felt his heart hamming in his chest while trying to push the imagines of her dead boy, her coldhearted _no_ and the pain of losing her out of his head. He could still feel her arms wrapping around him from behind, her lips that pressed against his shoulder, opposite to the scar that brought them together. He had to tell her then, needed to confirm form himself, that she really wanted to marry him. Her answer echoed still through his mind, bringing a smile to his lips whenever he heard it. _How could I have said no? I love our life. I don’t even want to imagine a life without you, a future without you. Of course, I want and will marry you! I love you, Oliver!_

Looking over at her, he felt the familiar warmth spreading through his body. Felicity was sitting at the kitchen counter, typing on her phone while a blond curl hung over her face. Finishing the pancakes and putting them on their plates, he grabbed her coffee, before walking around the counter, pushing the stubborn tress from her face and pressed his lips to her temple, smiling into the kiss.

“What are your plans for today?”

He sat next to her, gently pushed the steaming mug into her hands, before taking a sip from his own. Waiting for her to speak he watched her features, traced the outlines of her cheekbones and shape of her nose, admiring her beautiful face. _Mine! Soon…Tomorrow!_

“Thea had a bachelorette party planned, but I am afraid my mother was involved in that too. We should never have introduced those two!” She huffed. “I am really happy that they helped with all the planning and organizing, but dear lord, those two are… a lot. I had to stop Thea from taking a private jet to bring us to New York for a shopping tour. I think we are going to have a spa day, but with both of them involved I am a bit afraid of their definition of _relaxing_ and _fun_ …” 

Oliver grinned, knowing just too well how persisted and over-the-top his sister could get when she had set her mind to it. The last months were filled with hourlong phone calls about the precise color of tablecloths, the layout of the table setting, exactly what music should be playing, and other issues he would never even have dreamed about. Donna backed Thea up by showing up at their doorstep in the middle of the day, sometimes even in the early morning, pushing magazines, color samples, and catering-menus into Felicity’s hands, before dragging her into their living room and staying there for the rest of the day, arguing and discussing, convincing and planning.

“What about you? Did John plan something for you guys to do?”

Oliver felt his smile fade his plans for today sobering his mood.

“John did have an idea… I want to go and visit Tommy, he should have been there tomorrow…”

“Oh… You have never been there, right? Do you want me to come too?”

Her blue eyes looked at him, concern darkened in them, together with sadness for his best friend she never knew. She never met him, but she was still sad, for him, because she knew how deep Tommy’s death scared him. He loved her even more just for that, for grieving for someone he loved like a brother. Her hand moved toward his, entangling their fingers on the countertop, her coffee forgotten before her.

“No; you go and have fun today, I think I have to do this alone.” Oliver took a steadying breath, before chucking softly. “And Thea would probably kill me if you ditch her party for me!” 

Felicity only squeezed his fingers and traced gently the thin, nearly invisible scars on the back of his hand.

“Okay.” She smiled at him again, that special smile she had, whenever she tried to coax him from his broody thoughts. “But as of tomorrow, you are officially stuck with me for the rest of your life!”

“And I can’t wait for it!”

* * *

His black and blue Ducati Aprilia stopped in front of an old building. The _Finnegans_ was a small Irish pub in the Glades, with wooden walls and deep green padding on heavy stools. Tommy and he had their first legal beer here, before celebrating their birthday’s together the next day in one of the upper-class clubs uptown. The memories of their visits washed over him, made him stop on his way to the door, but didn’t paralyze him like he almost expected. After a second he walked to the entrance, the heavy doors opened with ease. The room behind was stuffy and smelled like beer, cigarettes, and aftershave. It was just after noon, and only one older looking man sat at the bar, a beer bottle in hands, his eyes glassy and unfocused. It was just like he remembered, down to the bartender wiping the countertop with a stained towel.

An image of his friend pushed into his vision, morphed into his sight, and made him see layers of memory and reality. Tommy sat in the far corner of the bar, his dark hair messy and longer than when he last saw him. He was maybe 18, his left arm over his shoulder, while his right hand held a beer jug, grinning at Oliver through the mirror behind the bar. _So, Laurel is mad at you again? Who was it this time?_ Tommy’s voice ghosted through his head, younger and gentler than the taunting once he heard in his nightmares. The memory faded, a rough sound pulled him back into the present. 

“So, what can I get you?”

_Your best scotch please, my brother here needs to loosen up a bit._

“A bottle of your _Viking Pride_ please.”

“Rough morning?” The bartender scanned Oliver’s face, looking for a sign that it would not be a good idea to give him the asked alcohol before he turned around and shuffled through a drawer beneath the mirror Oliver could still see the ghost of his dead friend smiling back at him. _You need to loosen up a bit buddy!_

“No, it’s for… an old friend.”

The older man stood up, a bottle of amber-colored liquid in his hands, decorated with thin lines, runes, and curved patterns. Another image shoved itself into his sight. Tommy sits just next to him, an empty glass in hands, swirling the ice cubes within it around. He could nearly hear the clinking. _It’s like I am never good enough for him!_ Bitterness clang in his voice, the words sad and angry. He only ever talked about one person like that. Oliver thought he understood then how it felt to be a disappointment, but his parents, his father, never made him feel this way. He always had a home to come back to, a soothing embrace from his mother and a guiding but also helping hand from his father. Tommy didn’t. _He just doesn’t want to understand! Tommy here, Tommy there, why do you have to be like that?! You are a Merlyn, act like it! You are a child!_ A new glass appeared on the countertop and getting drowned with one gulp. Oliver could hear his own voice in the memory, younger, blinder but with the same passion, he always spoke to his friend. _Let him talk! You know, that you are always welcome in our home._ A chuckle. _Maybe even more than me, considering your manners._ A soft huff, and then he saw his friend grin at him, the memory a bit blurry from the alcohol he drank himself.

“…bucks.”

Once again, the rough voice of the older man behind the bar pulled him back to reality.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“I said: That would be 170 bucks.”

“Oh, yes, sorry.” He shuffled through his pocket, to find his wallet, before paying the bartender, grabbing the bottle and leaving the bar, but the memories of his dead best friend stayed in the back of his mind, not cruel but somewhat healing.

* * *

_In loving memory of Thomas Merlyn_

_1985 - 2013_

_Beloved Son_

_Brother and dear friend…_

Oliver stood in front of a stone he once promised to himself, he would never visit. Back then the meaning behind it, the death, was too fresh, the memory of his best friend dying in his arms too painful to even go to his funeral. He had run, hid in the most terrible place he could think of, and had punished himself for what he did. Standing now only three feet away from the dark red granite stone, black writing, and a simple ornament following the edges, Oliver felt the pain rise again. Not ready to focus on that just yet, he kept his eyes firmly locked on the stone itself, blending the written letters out. It was simpler than he had expected. He thought that _Merlyn Global Group_ or maybe even Laurel had given Tommy a heavy tombstone, impressive and grand, maybe even decorated with expensive ornaments and golden writing. He was glad they didn’t. Though Tommy had loved his father’s money, his expensive lifestyle, and all the doors his family name opened for him, he was also a very generous and modest man. Oliver still remembered how content his friend had looked like, after he had his first own job, his first own money. Tommy had hated that his father had cut him off, but with time he had grown used to it and started to enjoy earning his own living. Oliver knew, that his friend, his brother, was happier with his simpler life.

Yes, the stone suited him.

He stood there for a long time, the heavy bottle in one hand, and a pair of crystal glasses in the other, two of the few things that survived from his former family home. Memories started to fill his head, pounding against the thick walls he had long since build around them. There were only a few left, Felicity was able to break many of them down in her soothing, comforting but sometimes also very direct way. She had shown him slowly how to feel again, to accept the things that happened, and to find control over the storm of imagines that used to flood his mind. But this, Oliver, knew he had to do alone. 

Oliver stood, looking at the mark in front of him, but not seeing. He took the walls apart, layer by layer, and started to get pulled into the waiting memories, the heavy feeling of the bottle in his hand grounded him somewhat.

A snicker started to fill his head, and a memory pushed into his vision.

“This… That is one, big fried fish!” They sat in a simple restaurant, a greyish looking fish in front of them on a giant plate, surrounded by vegetables. It reminded him vaguely of the fish he had caught on Lian Yu, but he shoved the feeling connected with that island deep down. Back then, he couldn’t think about that, without turning into the _Hood_.

The memory shifted, turned blurry for a second before clearing up again, showing the solemn face of his friend.

“We were eight. But after her funeral, he left for like two years. And when he did come back, he was... he was so frickin' cold. We barely spoke. And that's why I spent so much time at your house.” 

_‘Tommy, where are you? Come on, dad brought a new baseball, with bats and glove and all. Come on!’_

_Moira stroke over Tommy’s dark hair, smiling down at him and pressed a light kiss to it, before going over to Oliver and kissed him good night as well. They slept in his room, begged his mother to allow them to sleep on the floor in their pillow fort. ‘Good night boys.’_

_‘What do you mean, you didn’t see me?! I was standing right in front of you!’ Tommy stood over him with apologetic eyes, while his nose and forehead pulsed with pain. His friend just ran him over, trying to get away from Raisa for stealing the whole cookie jar, now forgotten on the floor._

_Someone kicked him, followed by a whimper. ‘Tommy. Tommy, wake up!’ He shook his sleeping friend beside him. ‘Tommy!’ He jerked up, tears already streaming down his face and shame flushing over his face. Oliver didn’t know what to do. His friend had nightmares since his mother got killed, and they got worse since his father came back from his trip. ‘What was it?’ He just shook his head. They barely talked about his dreams, and the only thing Oliver could do was acting on instinct. He didn’t care if they were already fourteen and that teenagers, nearly men don’t_ hug _, he just pulled his still crying friend in, and hugged him. ‘It’s okay. You have a family, you know that, right? You are my brother Tommy!’_

The memory shifted once again, now flashing images and feelings of long ago into his vision. Oliver felt his hand tremble a bit. _My brother…_ The sound of the glasses in his hands, clinking together ripped him from his mind, made him see the stone in front of him again. Taking a deep, steady breath, he placed one of them onto the smooth, red surface, opened the bottle and filled half of it, before filling his own.

“Man, I wish you would be here…” 

Oliver allowed himself to be sad, to grief his dead friend, his brother. The feelings were strong and hurt, but didn’t threatened to overwhelm him, didn’t want him to hide from them anymore. Taking a sip from his glass, he placed the bottle between them, his free hand now shoved into his pocket. He felt silly for a moment, talking to a stone, but something in him grew lighter, so he allowed himself to continue.

“I really wish you would be there with me tomorrow…I am getting married, and I always thought you would be my best man if I finally would get my shit together.” Pain stung in his chest, the picture of his friend beside him while Felicity would walk down the aisle was vivid. He closed his eyes and took another breath. “Felicity. You would love her! She is…” Her smile flashed through his mind, the familiar warmth enveloped him for a moment. “She is great. Man, you would really love seeing her chasing me around! Beautiful, gentle, kind, and smart, but if you get her angry… I am telling you, she could compete with Mirakuru soldiers!” He smiled. “She even threatened me to get my ass handed by one of them if I won’t _remove my head from my own ass_ …”

Oliver talked. He told him about what happened to him on Lian Yu, and nearly heard the smirking voice behind him _What did I tell you? Yachts suck!_ He told his friend about Felicity, how he tried to honor his memory, about that Thea is their sister, about John and Roy. He told Tommy everything, allowing the good and the bad memories to brush through his head, but they didn’t threaten to pull him under. 

His glass had emptied over time, and when he looked up from the stone in front of him again, the sun already skimmed the horizon. Realizing that he had been out here for hours, talking, and practically standing still, Oliver crouched down to pick up the half-empty bottle, his right knee cracking with the movement. Even after more than two years, he still felt every once in a while, a mild but throbbing pain where Roy’s foot had crashed into his. 

Even though it was getting colder, his knee ached and the memories he revisited while talking had made him solemn, Oliver felt lighter. Over the past hours the weight in his head that was there since his friend died, had shifted. He could still feel the pressure of losing Tommy, but it was now bearable, something he could live with, without tearing him apart. 

“I can’t wait for tomorrow, but I wish you would be there too…” Still kneeling, he tenderly placed his hand on the stone, the surface smooth and still warm from the sun. When he was younger, before _The Gambit,_ he never was a very superstitious person and didn’t believe in any kind of deity or higher being, but he had seen too many unexplainable things since then, to feel strange to talk to a stone. Maybe Tommy could hear him, maybe he couldn’t. Maybe his best friend and brother was still somewhere there, listening, or maybe he just talked for hours to a memory, but he didn’t care. 

Standing up again, he moved to his friend’s final rest and picked up the still full glass. Pouring the content over the grass patch between the dark red granite and the purple flowers planted into one corner of the grave, Oliver allowed himself to smile. 

“Bye Tommy…”

Walking back to his Ducati parked under an old blackjack oak, the two glasses in one and the scotch in the other, a though slowly started to build itself in his head. Maybe he could find somebody to add to Tommy’s gravestone one more line. “ _Brother and dear friend”._ Oliver was sure, that Felicity would help him look into it, her pink lips curling into a soft smile in his mind. His grin grew wider at the thought of his fiancé and the familiar warmth he felt whenever his thoughts brought him back to her, ran through his whole body. _Tomorrow!_

* * *

For the past eight months, Oliver normally woke up in either of two ways. Him, curled around Felicity, her back pressed firmly against his chest, while his hand rested just below her breasts, nearly big enough to cover the whole plane of her soft belly, a silent, hopeful wish for their future. Then her head would lie on his arm, and her breath would ghost over his skin, reminding him with every little snore, that she was alive, that she was well, and that she was here, his. 

Today though, he woke up with one of her legs draped over his, while her left hand had snaked around his waist, tucking herself close to his side. Her blond tresses were sprawled out on his chest, her head just above his heart, and his nose buried in the tickling mess of gold. She had told him once, that she liked to wake up like this. His steady beating heart under her fingers and in her head, reassured her, that he was really here with her, alive.

Smiling into her hair, he stayed like that, his arms securely wrapped around her, holding her close. In that short moment between sleeping and waking up, all he could see, feel, and think of, was his fiancé in his arms, but as soon as his mind started to work properly, his smile turned into a nearly painful grin. _Today!_

As if she could feel his excitement, Felicity hummed softly, her hand curled into a fist and moved up to her face, pressing closer to his side. Planting a gentle kiss into her hair, Oliver tightened his hold around her waist, before glancing over her head to the clock on her bedside table. It wasn’t even six o’clock and the craziness wouldn’t start another three hours. 

Originally Donna and Thea both wanted Oliver to sleepover at Diggle’s, because _the groom is not allowed to see the bride before the actual wedding_ , but stopped immediately when Felicity walked into their argument. Oliver could count on one hand how often he had seen her this angry with anyone. She had plain out refused to even let them finish their sentences before telling them, that he will not sleep anywhere else but at home, in their bed, next to her. Though his nightmares had lessened immensely since they got engaged and she was released from the hospital, he still woke up panting from time to time, only calming down, when he could feel her reassuring, gentle touch on his face, promising him that he was safe, that she was safe. 

Oliver allowed himself to fall back into a light slumber, his face buried in her hair and a soft smile on his lips.

* * *

The next time he woke up, he heard the door snap shut, followed by the voice of his sister, yelling through the apartment.

“Morning guys. If you are not out in ten minutes, I am coming in, we have a lot to do before the wedding!”

Felicity nearly jerked from their bed, before groaning a series of curses under her breath. She pressed her face into his skin, trying to block out the chatter from beyond the closed door. Apparently, Donna was in their apartment as well, already arguing with Thea what to do first, when the two of them would get out of bed.

Oliver sighed, knowing his sister too well to think that she was bluffing. He kissed Felicity’s forehead gently for a second, before attempting to get up. The formerly loosely curled hand on his chest shot forward, around his waist and kept him in place, while a huff of air blew the golden tresses from her face.

“No!” 

Felicity’s peered up at him, her blue eyes still drowsy, while her voice was even grumpier than usual in the morning. He had to swallow his chuckle, the sight of her like that, was equal parts adoring and amusing.

“You know, that she _will_ come in if we are not out in ten minutes, right?” 

The only answer he got was another groan, but her grip relaxed slightly, allowing him to shift from beneath her to roll to his side, facing her fully. One hand brushed the remaining strands from her face, while the other pulled her to his chest, enjoying the feeling of her warm skin against his. He stayed like that for a moment, before pulling back to press a gentle kiss to her lips. The frown between her brows disappeared and he could feel a content hum vibrating through her chest and on his lips.

“Felicity, honey, get up, we have to get you ready!” Donna's voice combined with a series of knocks on the door made them both groan in surrender. Felicity rested her head for a second on his forehead before pulling away, winding out of his embrace and standing up. Just before she opened the door, Oliver could hear a string of grumbled curses falling from her lips. He got up and crossed their room in a few long strides, wrapping his arms around her from behind, just as her fingers closed around the doorknob.

“Tomorrow we will have our peace from those two, I promise!” 

He pressed a quick kiss to her temple before pulling back. In search of a shirt to put on, he went into their closet, leaving Donna alone to deal with Felicity’s anger. 

* * *

An hour later, Oliver stood in the otherwise empty hallway and knocked on the heavy door in front of him. It opened a moment later and reviled a happy toddler on the arms of an amused looking Diggle.

“Hey man, you are early!”

He huffed in annoyance, while Diggle moved aside to let him in. 

“Thea threw me out. Apparently, they need the whole apartment to get Felicity ready and I would be _just standing in the way_.” 

The older man laughed. Over the past months Thea had frequently kicked her brother out, with the explanation that he would only be in their way, or that he wasn’t allowed to see Felicity’s wedding dress, so it wasn’t a surprise anymore for Diggle to find the former Arrow standing brooding in his apartment.

“It’s not even eleven, so we have at least four hours to kill before we have to get ready. Coffee?” He smirked. “Or something stronger?”

Baby Sara giggled in her father’s arm, before reaching her chubby arms towards Oliver. It had taken John a while to allow his friend to be close to his family again, even after the accident and their talk, the scars that Rah’s left still prominent in his mind. His daughter though didn’t know such hesitance. The second time Thea threw him out, Oliver found himself with a small toddler crawling and climbing over him, while happily babbling about things he didn’t understand.

“Coffee sounds good, thanks!” 

Sara tugged at her father’s arm and when he handed her over to Oliver, he was rewarded by a happy giggle, before the small girl started to pad her fingers over Oliver’s face.

Ten minutes later, the two men sat down in the living room, with Sara in his lab and a mug full of coffee in each of their hands, but Diggle’s face was more serious than normal.

“What?”

“You know, that I love Felicity, and you are like a brother to me, right? So, we need to talk before today.”

Oliver felt himself tensing up. The unspoken threat in John’s voice let his blood run colder than before and the unconscious need for his bow in his hands started to rise, but he stayed where he was. Sitting on the navy-blue couch with Sara falling over and over into his chest, Oliver looked at his friend expectantly, willing his muscles to ease.

“Okay. What is it?”

A small smile ran over the face of the man across from him, before he cleared his throat and leaned forward, his elbows now resting on his knees, the coffee mug forgotten on the table.

“You and me both know, that when you have a problem, you tend to close up and push everyone around you away. I know that you think that you protect them when you do that, but you can’t do that anymore. Not after this today!” 

_I did it to keep them safe!_ The muscles in Oliver’s neck started to tighten, and the force he used to bite his teeth together pulsed through his jaw. But he had agreed to listen, so he stayed where he was. John’s stern expression kept him silent and Sara kept him seated, the small child oblivious to the inner conflict of her cushion. Focusing his eyes on the toddler, Oliver felt the familiar longing for a family, something he only recently allowed himself to wish for. He and Felicity haven’t talked about having kids yet, but ever since he saw her standing next to Lyla with Sara in her arms, small fragments of blond locks, blue eyes, and happy giggling had started to fill his mind. The girl in his arms kept his temper in check and allowed her father to continue.

“I am serious about it. You can’t push her away anymore. She is going to be your wife in only a few hours, and then you won’t have any excuse to exclude her from parts of your life anymore. I know that you love her and that you would do anything to protect her, but you can’t hide things from her anymore. Even if you think, that it would protect her. You haven’t seen her, after you stayed in Nanda Parbat, or when you came back as Rah’s lap-dog.” 

Oliver felt himself flinch away from the imagines his mind showed him. He had lied to her on purpose and could still see the pain in her eyes that he had caused. 

_To protect her…_

_Or yourself?_

_It was necessary…_

_Or just easier?_

“Look, man, I know that you got better since you two got together, but I am going to say it to you straight out: Do not lie to her anymore!” Diggle leaned even more forward, his words supported by the steel in his eyes and the depth in his voice he used only when he wouldn’t allow any argument. For a second Oliver felt like a scolded kid. “She is much stronger than when we first met her, and she can help you with your problems. That’s what marriage is about. To help each other, to support each other and to trust each other. Every time you hide things from her, you betray her trust, every time you keep things from her to protect her, you shut her out.” At some point in his speech, Diggle stood up and started to gesture at his opponent, underlining every new point he made with a jerk of his hand. He wasn’t angry or enraged, but Oliver could practically feel the tension in the air. John looked like he would gladly use a sledgehammer if it would help to make a point. Before his friend could continue, Oliver stood as well and clasped the other man’s shoulder.

“I… Thank you! I know what I did, and I know what it cost, but back then, I thought it was necessary. I never… I couldn’t stand the thought of losing her, to let her die like Sara, like Tommy, as my Mom or Shado did…” Oliver’s grip around his friend’s shoulder grew stronger, a mixture of grief, sadness, and sincerity pulled on him. ”I know what I did, and I know, that I can’t take it back, but I can promise you, that I will my best to never let it happen again. Felicity, Thea and you are the only people I unconditionally trust, even if it took me a while to see and accept what it means.” He allowed himself to chuckle at the thought of his former, more closed up self, even if it sounded a bit harsh. “I promise I won’t lie to her again. Not after what I already put her through, not after today. I can’t lose her.” A flash of crimson red in golden hair ran through his vision, but he shook it away, before losing himself in his fears. 

“Good. I will keep you to that promise!”

Dig’s hand landed on Oliver's other shoulder for a moment, before pulling away, clearing the darker, more sincere emotions from his features with a hand dragging down his face.

“So, where is that little munchkin?”

* * *

After finding Sara hidden under the couch, scooting around on her back, her little legs pressed against the bottom of the furniture, the two men spent the next hours entertaining her. The serious topic from Johns's speech stayed in the back of Oliver’s mind, but instead of the still familiar anger, fear or coldness, he only felt like part of a family. It had taken him months to allow people back into his life, always cautious of them, always seeing them as a target or threat. Felicity was the first one he could see as an actual person, and even now, after more than four years of being back from Lian Yu, the circle of people he felt close to and felt welcome was still small. Besides her, he thought, only Thea and John would be allowed to talk to him in the way John did, without risking an arrow decorating their body permanently. Those three gave him back a feeling of belonging and acceptance, something he had almost forgotten after coming back home, and he was grateful for it. 

While Sara’s attempts to climb over the coffee table, were continuously stopped by her dad pulling her back down, Oliver started to feel nervous. In half an hour he should get ready, and then the three of them would leave for the _Green Haven’s Hall_ , where he would be married. Married to his fiancé for the past nine months. Married to the woman he had been in love with for four years. Married to Felicity. A fragment from a dream ghosted through his minds, golden and white layers, blue orbs, music, and quiet talking. Soft lips against his own. _Mine!_ He couldn’t wait for it, checking the clock over the door every other minute, until John finally picked his daughter up, to give her a quick bath and get her dressed, a blue princess-dress Lyla had picked out for today.

Just as Oliver went to the black bag containing his suit, hanging in the small closet in Diggle’s guestroom, his pocked buzzed against his tight. 

A small picture of Felicity’s face smiled up at him, followed by seven simple words, that made his heart beat faster, and the tension in his veins spike. 

_Leaving now. See you at the altar!_

* * *

“Relax man!” The heavy hand of his best man beside him landed on Oliver’s shoulder, pulling his focus away from the nervous pit in his stomach. “You look like you have to fight Slade again, not like you are getting married in a few minutes.” _A few minutes…_ Nervous anticipation, fear, and joy pulsed through him with every heartbeat and he felt his fingers rubbing together, longing for his bow. In a few minutes, he would see her. In a few minutes, he would marry her. In a few minutes, she would truly be his, like he is hers. 

_Still dreaming, that she would say yes? You are a killer, a murderer, a monster. How could she want to marry you?_

Diggle unintentionally triggered the poisonous voice of Slade in Oliver’s mind, pulling him into the dark pit, deep in the back of his mind.

_You will kill her. Just like you killed Shado. Just like you are responsible for the death of everyone you loved. Your father, your mother, that blond girl you chose over Shado, your so-called best friend, who died despising you! You will kill her like ev-_

Oliver’s mind went blank and the voice silent as soon as the music started to play. His fingers uncurled from the fists he had made, the tension in his neck relaxed and the cold fear in his veins subsided to the familiar warmth. Though now it wasn’t just warm, it was burning hot, making his heartbeat race with itself, soothing his muscles and flooding his system with a deeply anchored feeling of home, of belonging, of _love_. 

Oliver always had hated the cheesy movies he had to watch with Thea when she was younger, where the groom was so entranced with his bride, that he didn’t hear a thing, and had to ask the officiant what he had said. He always had thought of it as exaggerated, dramatic, and absolutely unrealistic.

And yet, he was proven wrong.

One moment Felicity walked through the entrance, a bouquet of white and golden-yellow flowers in her hands, and in the next, she stood before him, giving him the most beautiful smile, he ever saw and taking his hands. All his senses had zoomed in on her, something that would have gotten him killed on the island. He vaguely remembered soft music in the background, a shift in John's stature behind him claimed his attention for a second, making sure that no threat of any kind was nearby, but otherwise, he was only able to see her. 

She wore a white dress, that hugged her chest and waist and then flowed along her body in a mermaid-cut. For a moment he was thrown back in time, his mother sitting across from his sister over the kitchen table, flipping through pages and pages of different dresses, searching for something to wear, talking about various colors, cuts, embroideries, and necklines. She was beautiful, even more so than she already was. _Mine!_ Donna and Thea kept her makeup light, only highlighting her eyes and making them seem an even brighter shade of blue. The smile she gave him only grew bigger with the minutes that passed, while the officiant talked about something Oliver would not be able to remember later.

“…to begin?”

Felicity squeezed his hands gently and nearly laughed out loud when he looked at her in a mixture of confusion and absolute love. 

“Your vows.” She whispered softly, but he could clearly see the amusement in her eyes for catching him off-guard.

Oliver had written his vows many times over, rereading them and memorizing them to the letter, but at that moment, he felt nearly as nervous as when he proposed to her. Keeping their eyes locked, he blended everyone else out, trusting John on keeping up his guard.

“Felicity, before I met you, I had a plan. I had a way that I was going to be. Then you walked into my life, or I … I showed up at your cubicle, and you changed everything.” Her smile grew into a small grin, and a slight shade of pink spread over her cheekbones at the mention of their first encounter. “I was in darkness. But with your kindness, your generosity, your compassion, your intelligence, your wit, and your trust, you brought me into the light. You let me know that I deserved it. You were that light. Whatever has happened, whatever will happen, the way that you make me feel is the best part of my life. I promise you here and now, that I am letting you in, that I will seek your advice and your help, and that I will never lie to you again. You are my always, and I just want the chance to be yours.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, and for a second the voice in his head started to rise before he felt her fingers tightening around his. The small grin grew into one full of love, adoration, and pride.

“You are. You are my always!” Her voice was gentle and soothing, chasing every last doubt and fear from his mind, and he had to control himself to not bend down and kiss her, traditions, or not. 

“Oliver, I am here with you, because love is real, because love is life itself, and because you give that to me, every single day. From the moment you walked into my life, everything changed. I became a person that I didn't even know I was capable of being. Every day with you I become a better version of myself, and every new day with you makes my life better than before. That would never have been possible without our love. Our love gives my life meaning. It gives my life purpose. And it brings me more joy with every new day I am allowed to spend with you. I love you Oliver, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you!” 

He was overwhelmed. The warmth he always felt around her, ran through his every veins, nerves, and muscle, erasing that tight, dark knot back in his head, taking away the fear of not being good enough, the anger of himself for hurting and lying to her, the doubt of doing the right thing by keeping her in his life. It all just faded into nothing, leaving him with only love, hope, and _light._

“…pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss…” But before the officiant could even finish his sentence, Oliver surged forward, while Felicity, his _wife_ , bend upwards, meeting him in the middle. 

_Mine!_

_I love you!_

_My wife!_

Those six words ran through his head over and over, and with every passing second, he lost himself more in her. They kept their first kiss as husband and wife light, and after they pulled apart, her lips ghosted over his, barely brushing the sensitive skin.

“I love you.” 

* * *

They stood next to each other on the balcony, facing the gardens. Oliver’s jacket was wrapped around her shoulders, while his arm tucked her close into his side. It was a clear but cool night and a slight wind ruffled every now and then through his hair, but he barely felt it. The woman beside him pressed a gentle kiss against his shoulder, before leaning back into him, facing the stars. They came out here in the seek of quiet for a while, enjoying the view and each other’s company. While they both loved Donna, they wanted to be alone for just a few moments, without hearing about grandchildren or recommendations of names and just enjoying their first day as a married couple. The soft chatter from their guests and the music playing in the background, together with her golden curls against his chest, reminded him of a dream he had months ago, while he stood before the jewelry where he bought her engagement ring and later the platin bands that now encircled both of their right ring fingers. The memory of that day, made him pull her even closer, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips.

“Hmm, what was that for?”

Her content hum vibrated through him, and his arms tightened around her involuntary, needing her even closer.

“I was just thinking about how grateful I am, that you said yes. That you are here, right now, that I can kiss you and that I can call you my wife!” 

For a second Oliver could see her frown, before she leaned her head back in a grin, her hands wandering upwards, along his arms and his neck into the nape of his hair, gently scratching her nails through it, before pulling him down. Just before she kissed him, he could hear her voice whispering through the night. “What makes you think I would have ever said anything else but yes?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N:  
> Special thanks to my friend Ems for lending me a really helpful hand in this story! And curse her as well for letting me wait weeks at a time till she responds! :?  
> Your comments and kudos were a big help and greatly appreciated, and I am really, really grateful for every single one of them. Thank you!!  
> Part of the reason why it took me so long to finish this story, was because I had some serious struggle if it was good enough, if it was accurate enough, if I used the right words, if it was understandable for anyone who isn’t me, and so on. Basically, that ugly thing called doubt clawed through my head and thought it a great place for nesting…  
> I am still really unsure if I got the wedding right, so please, please let me know if there is something I should/could improve, for the next things I have in planning!!  
> That’s it. Nothing more to say except THANK YOU for reading, I really would have never dared to hope that more than maybe a hand full of people would even click on it, let alone read, comment and kudo it.


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